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I'm hoping to take my son, Brandon out again this evening to shoot a hog. Joel and I bought a 7mm Browning about two months before he died so we could take up the sport. Joel aspired to be a gun smith and sighted in the rifle in just 9 shots. And to install the scope he had to file some very small screws without buggering them up. He would have been a fine gun smith. Unfortunately, that's all he got to do with the rifle. My afore mentioned officer friend has been taking us to a ranch where we can hunt hogs year-round. I think this will be our third trip. All the trips have been on a Friday. No particular reason. The first trip was good and bad. I was glad to get Brandon out of the house and doing something with him. We had just gotten our first camo hats and shirts from Bass Pro. So we were all rednecked up. My friend, Bill had brought his Son, Aaron. Aaron and Brandon hit it off and hunted together. We didn't bag anything but had a good time. And, Brandon and I were learning how to hunt. I didn't tell Brandon, but the trip required us to use Hwy 17 and go past the spot where Joel was hit. It was dark on the trip home and it began to pour rain. We approached the spot where Joel was hit. Through the headlights and rain I saw Joel run in front of us. I physically jerked in my seat and then began to cry as I imagined his crumpled body lying in the road. This sent me into a two-week long black depression. I couldn't function. I have not felt that depressed in a few weeks now. So maybe I'm on the road to recovery.

Trooper Bill took me and Brandon down to Zolfo Springs to hunt feral hogs again Friday as planned. The weather has turned finally. Our first cold front. We traveled Hwy 17 South. We went over the spot where Joel was killed. I saw the little cross a stranger placed where he was hit and was instantly depressed. I took control of it though and we had a good time hunting. I've been thinking of placing a proper cross on the spot. The small one would remain, of course. We had a good hunt and Brandon enjoyed himself. That is of course the main reason for going. It was nice to sit in the quiet woods. We saw deer, hawks, and then, a lone hog. He was on the run and we were never able to get a bead on him. We took the same route home and I was able to keep composure when we went over the spot. I maintained. But had a melt down Sunday evening. It eems to happen every two to three weeks now. It's usually triggered when I'm cooking dinner. I've cooked dinner every single night for my wife and kids since the day they were born. It's hard now to learn to prepare for three, not four. These meltdowns last only for some hours now instead of weeks.

There is a movie on TV while I write this. It's called "Sniper". At one time Joel thought he'd like to be a sniper. He really liked the Browning rifle I bought in March. Too bad he didn't get to shoot it except for sighting it in. So much talent waisted. He is my hero.

Everything I touch turns to shit. The one thing I was so very proud of and thought I had done an admirable job was raise a beautiful and happy family. But God hates me and he has taken that from me as well. Well, I hate him back. If he is there. He has never been good to me. If he is not there, then I don't know what I could have done to deserve this. It's like the Universe saw one of the few father's who is doing a good job with his kids. The Universe said, "This can't be happening. Lets pick on him and totally fuck up his world." I was so proud of the young man Joel was growing into and becoming. He was admired by so many. Yet I don't think he knew it. He seemed to think he wasn't quite good enough at what ever he was trying to do. Weather it was fly fishing, forging metal, playing guitar or his flute, running. I thought he was gifted at what ever he set his hands on. He knew so much about everything and everything about so many things. He was a walking encyclopedia. I quit Googling and just asked Joel. We are not the happy family we once were. I'd give anything to have a time machine. To go back and make sure he didn't walk away that day. I'm sure the Universe has a good fucking for me in the afterlife as well.

I had a strange dream this morning. I dreamed I was boiling oil in a cooker plugged in an outlet inside the freezer. For some reason I was moving the cooker and it splashed hot oil onto my left hand and burned a straight line in it. I pulled the plug so I could move the cooker onto the counter and noticed the ice was crackling and boiling. It wasn't from the cooker being inside the freezer, it was from the plug in the freezer. It was some kind of short circuit. So I turned to my wife and asked her several times if she knew what it was but of course she wasn't listening to me. I plugged the cord in and pulled it out to hear the cracking connection. Then the light blew out because of the short circuit. I turned to my wife and was going to ask her to get me another but I knew it would just piss her off. Joel was standing with her so I asked him to get me a seven-and-a-half watt bulb from the cabinet. But he produced one from his  pocket that was screwed onto a black string that had his key on it. It was always curiously funny the odd things Joel had in his pockets. I pulled the small bulb off and another smaller bulb was in its place. One that looked like the old-timey flash bulbs my grandfather used to take pictures at Christmas. I thought that was odd but didn't mention it to Joel. I leaned into the freezer to replace the bulb but noticed the base was too big, I needed the thinner, less common base, to make it fit into the socket. Joel put his hand on my shoulder and said he loved me, the way he did every day when he was alive. He had a deep but angelic voice. I wanted to ask him some questions but the alarm clock woke me.

This was the first time I have dreamed about Joel in a very long time. I was beginning to wonder if he hated me and took all his dreams away. I felt chilled and pulled the sheet over my shoulder and noticed that it didn't hurt my rotator cuff. I haven't been able to lift my arm for months as it hurt so badly. I rolled over on my back and was happy to have heard Joel tell me he loved me. I haven't heard that in so long. He would say it every time he left the room or before he hung up the phone. He was such an innocent young man. He'd call from school to update me on when and where to pick him up. I'd hear rude kids in the background making fun of him because they knew he'd say, "I love you" before he hung up. But he didn't care.  He was my angel. Turns out these kids were the small group of kids who systematically ripped Joel from our family and brain-washed him into thinking they would replace his family. This was a group of kids who had a "secret" group; a Cult who were also into the Occult and Demonology. Adam Chauncy was the group leader. May still be too. I later found this out by reading Joel's journal, notes passed back and forth in school, and Joel's e-mail.