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In Memory of Kay

A Beautiful Resurrection

It’s been 3 years, 8 months, and 27 days since your murder.


I shall always count the days you’re not with me, always calculate your birthdays, always long for your famous baked beans overflowing with bacon on Forth of July.


In the beginning, I was out of control, inconsolable, wandering around the house shouting– “son-of-a-bitch, bastard, why did this happen to our family?”


Why couldn’t we save you?

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