By Roy Gomez
(Originally published March 23, 2019.)
I would’ve bet a heart couldn’t ache any more. But I was wrong. There my boy sat, alone, waiting in that silent chapel for someone, anyone, to show up for his dad. Danny gripped flowers. Even wore my favorite tie. The knot was tight, off-center. That too was my fault. I wished I could cry. I was grateful to Bud, though. He was late – almost missed it all – but he came. As shovels of dirt thumped on my coffin, my old cellmate consoled him. Telling whoppers. That hurt worst … my boy feeling proud of his old man and all.
R. Gomez has been kicking words around for a while. He lives with his wife and pets on a hillside overlooking Medina Lake directly in the center of the Milky Way.
powerful
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Thanks, ksbeth. Glad you like it. : –]
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Wow, this was deep and lovely. Thanks.
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No, thank you — for the time and thoughts. Very encouraging.
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Heartbreaking ❤
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Thanks, Cindy. 😎
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Roy, you inspire me. Beautiful. It got to me.
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Thank you. That’s kind of you to say. And encouraging!
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Very succinct Roy!
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Thanks, Raynaldo. Brevity conserves lead. 😎
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Damn it. My eyes sting. I’m sure all the onions I’ve been cutting for dinner is the culprit.
Ugh. I feel to cry. Where’s that boy? I want to give him a hug 😦
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Thank you, Jessica. You’re a kind soul. Must admit, I got a lump in my throat when the story’s climax revealed itself.
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Engaging start, Roy.
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Thanks, Lynne!😎
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Reblogged this on Lynne McVernon and commented:
Very moving. We share much.
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I’m flattered, Lynne. Thanks so much for helping it get a little further down the road. I look forward to reading your stuff. 😎
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Very good.
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Thank you, Oneta.
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Roy, you really know how to pack a lot of emotion in just a few words. Man. Sometimes it’s those comforting lies that make the painful truth a little more bearable. Thank goodness for the Buds.
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Thanks, AP.
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