I drove to your grave site, today.
"Hello, Dad, I brought you a flower.
It isn't real, but it's your favorite color, blue.
And, it's shaped like a cross.
It's a bit early for Father's Day
but what can it hurt, eh?
I hope you're comfortable
and God understands that
shooting yourself was a last resort.
I forgive you.
Sure miss how you loved to pick on me.
I'm thinking I'll be missing you always,
Dad.
Gotta go to church, now.
I'm taking you with me, okay?"
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