I usually blog first thing in the morning, but I have opened up a new post about a billion times today and haven’t been able to come up with a thing. In the face of sorrow, nothing really seems all that important, interesting or funny. All I can think of is a life wasted, a life lost. He was a good man, a good person, with good things in front of him. He was literally the #1 recruiter in the Army. He was a good soldier with a continued great career ahead of him. But he was more than a soldier. He was a funny, dependable, honest guy with friends and family that cared about him. It didn’t need to be this way.
It kind of makes the everyday things that make up my life seem unimportant and pointless. Who cares about my botched dye job, my latest crafty endeavor? I don’t even care and it is me. I guess it doesn’t help that I am not completely over my grandmother, either.