Rainy Memorial Day

“The king is gone but he is not forgotten, this is the story of Johnny Rotten, it’s better to burn out, than it is to rust.”

God, I hate this weekend. It was on Sunday night of Memorial Day Weekend; seems like a long time ago that Elaine and I lost our son, Alex. The coroner said it was hypothermia. I know it wasn’t hypothermia. Alex’s angel brought him home. His wick was gone.

From the time he was a child, Alex burned his wick as if it was in a stick of dynamite. The wick was never in a candle.

That Sunday night changed our family’s Memorial Day forever. The celebrations are gone. The rain is always there. It might work for Elaine and I to ignore the day, if not for the twins. We see so much of Alex, in both of them.

Elaine and I planned on working around the house this weekend. Elaine has plenty of heavy stuff I need to lift. Elaine has some new flowers that need planted. I have holes that needs dug.

We have a gas fire pit won’t stay lit. I started taking it apart yesterday morning, with the intent of taking the broken parts to town for replacement. After an hour of being bent over and my back getting stiff, I said to Elaine, “I noticed Royal Soopers has fire pits on summer clearance.” She said, “I’ll take a shower!”

Today, its raining, just like it was that day. I’ve come to terms with that. It keeps the twin’s wicks damp. It is the rest of the days, I should worry about. Alex, we think of you every day. I miss you. The twins are great. Thank you for them. Listen to your Grandma. Take Kaley fishing. We’ll talk someday.