It took the delivery truck (filled with Christmas packages) less than a second to extinguish the lives of his parents.
The chaplain came by to pray and make stupid comments about God and the meaning of life. Jacob’s legs and an arm were weighed down with casts but he managed to fling a bedpan at the man.
By May, Jacob was walking with two canes and had registered for summer school. With luck he would be back on track by the time Fall semester rolled around.
He had come to depend upon anger to fill his belly like dense, sour bread that wouldn’t digest but wouldn’t go away, either. The anger kept him alive.
His girlfriend, Margo, emailed her mother: Jacob wanders the campus looking ragged and thin. He won't accept help or kindness from anyone. He drinks too much and is mean. I don't how to help.
Margo's mother baked Jacob a batch of chocolate chip cookies and mailed them along with a card that said:
Jacob, As you know, life is not fair. Let me share the secret rule of survival. Do whatever it takes to make it through. You can forgive yourself later.