I remember
my first experience with death. I was very young. He was Mr. May and he worked
at a gas station. Back then we called them service stations because they served
their customers. I don’t remember Mr. May but his wife babysat me and they were
friends of my mom. I thought they were really old but most likely they weren’t
much older than I am now. I remember being told that the service station was
robbed and Mr. May was shot and killed. I overheard details that really
bothered me but I never told. My mom and my brother went to his funeral while I
stayed home with my dad. We played. I think he was trying to keep me busy so I
wouldn’t ask questions.
