I saw you at the Rock n Bowl--we were there for Kevin's work party--and there was your twin- from one of your stocky with long hair and goatee periods. Kevin says his name is Mario, but he looks just like you. Even dressed like you--long, board shorts, t-shirt, heavy metal bracelet--his bowling face even reminded me of yours--I thought of what you'd look like bowling...I watched Mario quite a long time. I wonder how his voice sounds. Ms. Gladys says this is something you do after someone you love dies. Says it happens to her quite a bit with Ardis. I couldn't help gawking. It was very surreal. You should be here. I think of how could you were. It was an unnatural cold. I think of that sensation, and your curly hair each day. I'm glad I touched you before you were put in the ground.

We went to Bay St. Louis with Mama, Daddy and Haydee. I was surprised Daddy came, but everyone enjoyed it. Daddy watched Meet Joe Black, and it gave us some interesting conversations. I'm surprised with how easy it is to treat him with delicacy now--he so often deserves a good head slap, but I can see such a deep sadness in him now. Mama too--she cried on our way back from the mall. Said she always bought you something. I wonder if you cared or knew how much we'd hurt. Or if it really didn't matter. No, I guess you can't live for someone else...especially not the way you lived. I'm sad you couldn't find happiness. I wonder if now that is our curse.

Oliver is the bringer of love these days. He slept with Tito in BSL, and Daddy said it was the best sleep he's had in weeks. That Ollie woke up crying, looked over and saw him, and smiled at him in the dark. Well, that just breaks him all up. Mama is always holding him. It will be a miracle if he ever walks with all that luvin. I wonder now about the surprise of him coming. If the universe knew something I didn't about what would happen in our lives. That we would need a little baby to pull us out of our sadness that could so easily swallow us up. A baby, that so very often, looks exactly like you did. Give or take 10 pounds.

I wonder about this pain--and if life is slowly trying to rob me of my optimism, and if I'll have the strength to fight it back. And I look at so many others, mostly folks older than I, who've lost, and hurt, and endured. That's just life, I guess. I find myself not wanting to focus on the good bits of life--keep waiting for something else to happen.

I don't know that I've ever felt so fragile--I look at folks who might want to talk to me with a mixture of fear and caution. Some people look like they are scared of my pain...but then again, I'm paying an inordinate amount of attention to these interactions--so unusual for me. I've always considered myself fearless. Now the idea of being fearless and having so much to lose is ridiculous to me.

At some point, I'm supposed to turn this into something positive, right? Ms. Gladys says it will always just hurt. But it will get better over time. I'll just have to believe that, I guess.