
I live in a small hick town in the middle of nowhere. How I became stranded here is a long story that I will probably tell sometime. I don’t fit here and never will because it is one of those places that you have to be born to. This whole part of the state is like that and that’s just the way it is.
I left friends and family to move out here, and at the time it seemed like a good idea. But now, years later it feels like being awash in a storm with no compass in sight. Life has really hurt here. My problems are no different than yours. I’ve lost several important people in the past couple of years and have the regrets we all have. I didn’t say I loved you enough. I didn’t spend the time I should have. I was selfish, and now I can’t repair what pain I may have caused. My wife and I endure the daily routine of tolerating intolerance and suffering fools. I never believed life was meant to be hand to mouth.
The one true friend we were given in this place is dying.
I just received this email:
Of the 17% or less function of Kenneth's heart - over 90% is completely blocked. Because of the low amount of functioning he is not a candidate for any kind of surgery except a heart transplant. Heart transplants are not without strings attached. He would have to live in
Pray
Kenny is a black man, I’m not. Kenny is my friend and I am his. He is the most caring, compassionate and hardworking man I know. He has tolerated intolerance and endured struggles that I can never know. He always smiles. He has suffered and felt pain that is unimaginable to me. He always greets me with a handshake and hug.
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