this morning #1556.
this morning, we were no more than three sad strangers sitting around a kitchen table. pathetic. bathed in the sounds of chewing. not much to say to one another. at times, dad tries to strike up conversation but mom often ends up shutting him down with sarcasm. i’m unsure if he still loves her. she says he’s trying to turn her into his mother. ever since my brother died, they haven’t been able to get back to how things used to be. me either, i suppose. i hope that today’s meetup will help me relieve some of the pain. when it was suggested that we each pick an item to dispose of as a way of letting go, i scoffed. hippie-dippy. i’ve since come around. it won’t hurt to dig up the earth & put a piece of my brother in the ground.