Oh Death, You Boney Bastard, I Hope You're Pleased. . .

 That heartless, bag of rattling bastard Death is a motherfucker – a patient and conniving motherfucker. In the midst of stealing a few folks that already had my heart aching, I found out today that months ago I lost an old friend.  The last of his clan.  I reached out today, to touch base and learned that Tracy May had passed.  The May family had, in one way or the other, in my life since 5th grade.  Tracy and his twin brother Stacy were a year younger than the rest of us, but made their presence know. Death reached out for Stacy in high school, leaving Tracy a bit lost.  Next was their older brother Eugene, who I worked with. Then their sister, older and beautiful, who I found out too late, had a crush on me.  Finally, not yet content, Death came for Tracy. They say that death is hardest on those left behind, at least that’s no longer a worry for them. Reach out to those who populate your map, and let them know what they mean to you. Live your life so well that that boney bastard will tremble at the thought of taking you – or, let him get close enough to grab him and shake the marrow from his bones. RIP Tracy. RIP May clan you all deserved better.

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