Dis-. Spelling out the Truth

This is my Son the year before he was clearly murdered,
a month after his 19th birthday.

I remember having to read
the autopsy:

Fatty infiltrates in
the liver.

I think it said.

I remember thinking:

That should not be.


what




Yesterday I looked up Rt upper quad pain:

NASH

it
said

.

Also, an impromptu trip to the city to take care of some nagging unpleasant moving business, that should have never 'happened' in the first place. It also involved some walkin in the rain with the one{of the three} I love, and darting into a small food joint for a dual purpose; some evening nourishment, and some time to avoid an impending down pour... Unfortunately the back-packed local looking drenched man seemed not so lucky, and by the time he caught up with us... he paced back and forth in and out of the small restaurant to get a better look at us , chips, pico de gallo, and anchorsteam... almost finished.



I suppose it's like that black nurse for whom my son was her assignment that day, the one who coldly said that horrible march day

when I'd told her -- I didn't believe he was gone...

She'd said;

" We see what we want to see".



\

My son would have been 30 this Valentine's day

I will miss him

Forever -