It wasn’t a glass full of juice he poured me this time, like every other day when we meet. Jason skinked out his heart and soul into a glass. Like a glassful of diverse emotions, mostly anger and sadness. When mother died, she took his life with her and everyone in it, he became most visible in the past that he lost track of what reality looked like. The day father died, he laughed on while we wept. To live and die is one, he said, either way our spirit climb and search God unencumbered. He made peace with yesterday.


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