It was two years ago today that the 35W bridge collapse.
Without planning it and not realizing it until I approached it, I crossed the bridge this afternoon.
I was coming home from stopping at the cemetary where my grandma and grandpa are buried. This too was an unplanned visit. This is the first visit outside of Memorial Day weekend when my mom, uncle and I tend to the sites, planting the urn, etc. It's peaceful there as I lay on the grass and look at the sky and just remember.
When I'm there I realize a part of me is missing.
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