What becomes of friends past? In this case, a painful sudden death in a motorcycle accident.
As always, survivor's guilt comes to the fore and the regrets about not keeping in better touch or missing one another on a trip out west.
But mostly, what I miss are his hands and his big bear hugs. It's amazing what that sense memory produces when a tragedy happens of this nature. I don't smell the barn, or hear the Charlie Daniels Band playing, but I can feel that hug and big handshake.
Strange days.
No comments:
Post a Comment