Twenty-two months ago Charles died. And today, he would have been 22. So that’s the 22 and 22.
The spark that lit the flame of fun died by suicide which is still so hard to fathom. How is it that the funniest person I ever met suffered from depression so dark, so ugly, so painful he killed himself?
I talked with David Gallagher recently (CKG Foundation). We agreed birthdays are the hardest and I’m really struggling. This week has been a serious grief relapse–muscles have lead in them and motivation is nil. Kleenex … Read more...