The infected wound in my mouth is getting better due to the antibiotics that I’ve been prescribed.

In the meantime, my oldest son’s father would have turned thirty-eight years old on September 22nd. I suppose I’m going to remember that day for the next thirty-seven years, as am I going to remember November 20th, the day that a drunk and high driver took him from all of us. When we wanted him to hit rock bottom so that he would finally start to rebuild his life, we didn’t mean that a drunk and high driver should have hit him so hard that he was dead by the time he hit the ground on the other side of the road.