Eventually, It Wasn't Even Your Dad I

I'd Heard Of Evergreen Care Center Before. Cass And I Had Always Made Fun Of The Stupid Ads They Ran On Tv, Featuring Some Dragged-out Woman With A Limp Perm And Big, Painted-on Circles Under Her Eyes, Downing Vodka And Sobbing Uncontrollably. "we Can't Heal You At Evergreen", The Very Somber Voiceover Said. "but We Can Help You To Heal Yourself." It Had Become Our Own Running Joke, Applicable To Almost Anything. "hey Cass, "i'd Say, "hand Me That Toothpaste." "caitlin," She'd Say, Her Voice Dark And Serious. "i Can't Hand You The Toothpaste. But I Can Help You Hand The Toothpaste To Yourself.

I Wondered Again Why The Right Thing Always Seemed To Be Met With So Much Resistance, When You'd Think It Would Be The Easier Path. You Had To Fight To Be Virtuous.

As If It Didnt Matter What Was On, But Instead How Hard I Was Listening.

Grief Can Be A Burden, But Also An Anchor. You Get Used To The Weight, How It Holds You In Place.

I Was Heading Off To My New World. But I Was Taking A Part Of My Past, And The Future, Along With Me For The Ride.