Bob Hunt and I have been friends for about four years. In that time, we’ve each given the other reason for anger and near-hatred. I’m not going to go into details, and I trust Bob won’t either. Still, despite each of us having thought the other a rat-bastard, our friendship has endured. Each of us is a veteran. Each of us has battled addiction and found the only path to victory is to surrender and recognize we can never go onto that battlefield again. Each of us has been successful, but ended up living on the streets. Each of us has had to force ourselves to gaze into the eyes of daughters and see the “Why must you be this way?” look, and each of us has had those same daughters look at us with pride. I love Bob and Bob loves me, and right now Bob is walking through dangerous territory I can’t imagine. Bob’s youngest daughter, Katie, is dead.
I don’t know the details—when I’ve talked with Bob, that hasn’t made a whole hell of a lot of difference—but now Bob has a hole in his heart throbbing with pain. I’ve left Pittsburg for Manchester so I can be at Katie’s celebration of life tomorrow. If you’re a praying person, please pray for the family. If you’re spiritual but not a praying person, please send positive energy their way. Regardless, please hug the people in your circle—no matter how crazy they may make you—and let them know you love them. Please.
Tiny White Box--Thoughts on Life, Death, Recovery, and Other Mundane Topics 