“I called my dad and he didn’t answer, which was weird. I drove over to his house. His car was there, but he wasn’t. I started panicking. I knew something had to be horribly wrong. My dad never ignored me. I called bars I knew he’d go to when he relapsed. I couldn’t find him. Finally, around 4:00 p.m. I called the morgue. The very kind woman informed us there was a John Doe. When she described him to us, I knew it was him.”
- Love What Matters
- Image