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Doug was Doug. He was, in his younger days, a really &)^%ass to women. But I guess the years mellowed him. The only keys that are on Doug's grave are mine. And, somehow, they seemed to have been soldered into his brass name plate. I just lay them there and somehow they meld into his name plate. Yes, the keys are mine, but the words are his. Even after our years were up, he always came by the see if there was anything I needed, anything I needed to talk about because he knew about the years of custody battles I fought for my daughter. She and I have been reconciled, she is 21. I lost out on her young years. But she turned out to be a great kid. A girly girl when she wants to be but won't let anyone put on the headers to her car but her. The one room I avoid at all costs is the kitchen for fear someone may ask me to make them a cup of coffee–Hannah wants be get a degree in the Culinary Arts. I don't want to run her life, like Doug told me so many, many times. I just want to watch her grow. But, as Doug and her father said, Hannah got her hard head from me! That I cannot deny. But I went for 8 yrs. to Southwest Texas State in San Marcos, yes I know it is called something else now but it will always be Southwest to me. Yeah, those keys are mine. He wanted me to go to Europe with him and I was too scared I wouldn't be able to get my medicine there. He was right, a thousand dollars of cocaine a night and 200mg of methadone a day…yeah I guess he couldn't compete. But he walked me down the aisle twice. After my reconstructive surgery, he helped my boyfriend and they both helped me off of the bathroom floor, cleaned up the blood, called the doctor for some meds and went to the pharmacy and picked them up for me. I had Hannah 8 yrs later. Yeah, he cared. But I took it for granted; I took it way too far. Those things we can never turn back and do not have the time or place to tell that person how much I cared and how much I appreciated how much he did for me. Live Love from the Great Country of Texas!

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