Ecclesiastes 3 tells us that there is a time for everything.
To die.
To weep.
To mourn.
Every time I look at the shelf I put your box of ashes on, these are the only three I can remember.
So, I put down the empty bottle of vodka, pick up a Bible, and read it to remind myself that there are other times.
To laugh.
To mend.
To heal.
And for a moment, I smile.
Then, a twenty-dollar bill falls out.
I put down the Bible, pick up the twenty, and think:
Oh good. I can get more vodka now.