It's a hard rain that's gonna fall

It’s raining here in northern California and has been for several days. I am a captive in my own home.
I have been sitting here drinking Black and Tans and listening to Jim Croce all day and I’m really starting to feel the doldrums. The only bright spot is I am drinking my beer from a very large Harley Davidson beer stein and every time I take a drink I think of the magnificent Harley Electro Glide I have sitting in my garage and if only for a second it makes me smile.
Today is the first of March, only 24 more days until I am forced to recognize the 8th anniversary of the worst day of my life; the day my son was killed. This time of year is always difficult and always the same. I suppose it will always be this way, I detest it and love it at the same time. I hate that this time of year has such ominous meaning for me but since it does, it helps to be reminded of what I have lost in this life. My son was one of the two things that make my existence here on this planet worthwhile. If not for my son and daughter I could have come and gone from this planet, passing away into the rifts of time without anyone ever knowing that I was here. When I woke this morning and turned on the news I learned that Paul Harvey died today, although he was 90 years old and obviously lived a very long and good life it’s just the cherry on my day reminding of “The Rest of the Story”.