I went to a funeral today for a girl named Ryann Tewell. On Thursday morning, as she was walking into work downtown, she was hit by a cement mixing truck. The driver didn't know he had hit her so he kept driving, dragging her body along with him for several more yards. She had a little brother, Matthew. I didn't know her well enough to even be writing this, really. But I stood in this extremely packed funeral home, silently weeping while I watched her mom, dad, and brother hold it together as best as they could. According to the testimonials given by her friends, she was funny, outgoing, smart and just an incredible person. I wept for her family, but mostly for her brother. He was the reason I was there anyway. It was this horrific accident gone wrong, and all week I've been thinking. What if I was able to turn back time just only 96 hours or so. Just stuck out my hand at that crosswalk across her shoulders, and said "Ryann, just wait." Or what if she had just been 5 minutes late for work? Or what if that truck driver had just overslept Thursday morning and arrived at that intersection only 30 seconds later? It would've only taken literally 30 seconds, if that, to save her life. If I could just turn back time a few days and tell her not to go to work that day. I just literally cannot comprehend why such fucking awful things happen to such wonderful people. The thought that I was almost this random stranger standing in a room of crowded people sobbing over her lost life, and in the midst of everything, I wanted to shoot God in the face. I wanted to take a gun and point it right in his face, and say "You've got a sick sense of humor," and pull the trigger.

And then of course, as each minute passes, I become more selfish and relate this tragedy back to my own family. We've gone through so much shit, but somehow, miraculously almost, my brother is still alive. What little miserable life he has created for himself, he still has. I have loved him so much that it physically and emotionally hurts, and although in so many ways, he is this dead person to me, he is still very much alive. I haven't seen him in 7 months, but I'm missing him so much today. Matthew lost his sister on Thursday, and somewhere in the city of Louisville, my little brother is stealing from people he doesn't know to get cash to buy the stuff that he's sticking in his arms. It's been so long, Anthony, but I still love you. Please come home.

This day is just so sad.