Wrapped in a pink and orange, argyle, fleece blanket to keep warm, I'm always cold. I walk down the hallway acrosss the old creaky, wooden floor to my living room looking for some tissues. I find some and make my way to the kitchen where I find Rich, getting laundry from the dryer to be folded and put away, hung in closets. It's midnight now. I've been home from work for two and a half hours and while Rich and Tony are playing Nintendo and laughing with each other, an amazing sound that makes me smile, I've been reliving, reminiscing... reading.

I find Rich at the dryer, and he looks up as I approach him, before looking again to be sure he sees what he thinks he did. "Are you alright?" he asks, seeing the tears rolling down my cheeks as they have been for the last thirty minutes, though he has only just seen them for the first time. I nod to him that I'm okay before throwing away my used tissues. "Sad story?" he asks, looking for the reason for my tears. "Yeah," I say before I turn and walk away.

I walk past Tony on the way back to my room. He looks... almost horrified. That makes me cry more. His pillar of strength is human too. He's helpless, lost for words as he sees me walk by crying. I don't know that he ever has. I cry alot, but mostly, he doesn't see it and I like it that way. Someone needs to be strong for him.

Rich eventually follows my same path down the hall to our bedroom where he finds me curled up on our huge bed still wrapped in the fleece blanket, maybe for warmth, maybe for comfort. I'm still crying, and I can't really stop myself. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asks. He knows I wear my emotions for everyone to see... usually.

"I am," I assure him. He picks up the book I have just finished reading, cover to cover, in the short time I've been home from work. "Good book then?" he jokes, trying to make me smile... I love him more for this each time he does it. I know he doesn't feel emotions as strongly as I do, or stress, but he helps ease mine by making me smile and laugh.

"Really good book," I confirm, "you should read it."

"I don't know how to read," he replies, his lame attempt to dodge feeling what he sees me experiencing. He leans over and kisses my tears away and heads back to the Nintendo.

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Moving, insightful, accurate... awesome. I will probably read this book a million more times in my life. Somehow, everything I think and feel about life, death, and humanity is present in this book. Maybe I need this book more than others to remind myself of what I already know to be true, maybe others need it to learn what I already have learned.

"Tuesdays with Morrie" is the book I just read, I picked it up on my lunch break and for $7 ended up with something I will cherish and hold dear forever. I'm not sure why it caught my eye, I think I remembered seeing it in Michaels' profile as one of his favorite authors stories, but the reason is inconsequential now.

If you haven't read it, I recommend it, it is... a necesity. Being handed the answers to life's biggest and most difficult questions is priceless.

Besides that... Since about Christmas time I have seen this guy come into my store and shop, always coming through my line to check out. He is about 5'10", shaved head leaving only brown fuzz, and an English accent. He always has this adorable little boy with him, about one and a half years old maybe. Each time, since the very first time, I think of Chris... and I imagine him and David... as parents of a wonderful child and I smile, knowing that I have them in my life too.

Love ya, Vivian

PS. A million thanks Michael!!!