this morning #1636.
this morning, dad sat there & listened to me speak. drove silently as i told him the whole story. didn’t rush me. took in every detail. didn’t insist that i get to the point. i went back to when my friend proposed a symbolic act: we literally bury items from our past that we’d like out of our lives. shared that i picked my brother’s football jersey. that doing so led to my blowup at mom & our subsequent productive family talk. for me, the burial was sort of working. for the friend who’d come up with the scheme though, it was all part of a plot to cover up some stranger’s death. we’d found out. now he wants us to stay quiet. i asked dad what we should do. next thing i knew, he mumbled a few words & turned left. drove to the police station.