40
My friend Doug would have turned forty today. It's hard to believe it's been four months since he was killed. I miss him. It's not fair. It's not right. He was my brother from another mother. It makes me heartsick to know he won't be there to watch his daughter—who he loved more than life itself—grow up and become the intelligent, beautiful, strong, independent woman she is destined to be.
Wherever you are, my dear friend, I hope that you are finally at rest.
Wherever you are, my dear friend, I hope that you are finally at rest.