Cole had watched Michael loose his grip at the funeral; it had been downhill for him since that day.Ian had told Cole to stay close to him, keep an eye on him and give him a few weeks to put together how to get Michael to England. Cole didn't know how much longer Michael was going to be able to hold it together."I can't do this anymore," Michael said to no one as he sat in his living room looking at the flashing red light on the answering machine.His partner kept calling him, wanting to know what he could do to help, wondering when he would be coming back to work.Michael shook his head and walked into the kitchen; opening the refrigerator he was not surprised to find it empty.Slumping into one of the chairs at the table littered with old mail, condolence cards and ancient Chinese food the tears began to flow again. It was hard to remember when he had been happy, when everyday was not just a swirling maelstrom of unyielding suffering.His strength had left him, his will had left him,. One pair of dress shoes, three pairs of school pants and 3 button-down shirts also for school. I had 2 pairs of jeans, 1 pair of beat-to-heck sneakers and a few pullover short sleeve shirts. That was my clothing total. Mr. Fashion I was not. But, who cares really. This was the first time I was allowed to do anything outside of taking care of my siblings, the house and yard.So we then talked about what I did at home. I did most of the talking and she just asked questions. So I gave her my day-to-day schedule. Up at 5:00 am shower and put on my robe. (I dressed for school after everything else was done.) Put water on for mom's tea and start making breakfast. (Mom was showering and getting ready for work while I did this.) Okay, mom and I had tea and breakfast while she went over what I had to do that day. Ok, dishes rinsed and in the sink. Bye mom.Go and run a bath for my little sister. (She hated showers she is only 6.) Go get her out of bed and carry her to the bath. (Easier than.
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