On Groundhog Day, I read that the movie, Groundhog Day, is considered a Buddhist meditation. My brother talked about it in the weeks before he died. He liked watching it, and liked comparing himself to the hero.
We drove to Key West, and rented a bungalow with a private swimming pool. This is where we retreated during the afternoon to drink pina coladas, and get a blinding headache from the sun and the weed
Because once I started to let go of things, it was hard to stop. On that morning, as the sun rose, I picked up murderously sharp pieces of glass, and dropped them in a tall cardboard box, covered it up with an quilt, and placed it in the foyer, where it still sits, eight weeks later.