A reader writes:
In all sincerity, Andrew, “Tomorrow” is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen you write.
I had a roommate for ten years who died just this past May. His ashes are setting on a shelf in my library just a few feet from me and I know he wanted me to plant them under a rose bush. It’s like I can’t decide which rose to choose. None are beautiful enough. I don’t want to let go.
I still haven’t been able to do it today. Next time I get to Ptown. I leave tomorrow.
The Dish 