Last night I dreamed it was Sunday morning.
My father went out the side door to get the Boston Globe off the side walkway.
He bent over and looked at the front page and said 'I forgot we lost a guy this week.'
I dreamed a state trooper had died.
This morning I woke up, and that's just what happened. It has me quite spooked.
This story is sad beyond sad. My heart goes out to the family. Four kids? Tragic. I have so much empathy for the situation. I understand the motive for working late at night, extra details, the danger of working out on the road. Lucky for me, I have never had to experience a loss such as this.
This easily could've been our family. How many nights did my father stand outside on the highways, directing traffic, working details to put me and my sister through college? Hundreds. Probably even thousands. He even got hit by a car at least twice. Thank the powers above he retired.
I have no more words. So I'm stopping.