I stopped on the way home from work and bought a new dark colored shirt.
I have been practicing taking deep breaths.
I gassed up my truck.
I arrived home and ate my dinner in silence. I placed each item of clothing for tomorrow on the hook beside my closet. Looking at the outfit I thought...
This is my funeral outfit.
This thought kept repeating in my head.
I packed my lunch for tomorrow as I do every night. I started to pack my work bag when I realized I would not need files and a computer to attend a funeral.
I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to attend the funeral for this young boy who took his own life a few short days ago. I don't know how to face his grieving mother. I don't know if there are any words of condolence that I can offer a mother who has lost her only son, a boy just barely 13 years old, to suicide.
I don't know how to do this.
Soon I will try to rest in my bed. I am sure that I will not sleep tonight as I have not for the last several nights. I will rise to the sound of the screaming alarm, shower and walk to the clothes hanging from the hook beside my closet. I will think to myself, ....
This is my funeral outfit. I don't know how to do this.