Sleep just does not come most nights. I feel like a walking zombie. I lie awake at night thinking about Jimmy's last months, days, hours, minutes. The way he would stare at his skinny sickly legs- the look on his face- so sad... the struggle to get him out of bed- trying not to hurt him... he knew what was going on- kills me... but mostly- when he drew his last breath- I can never get that out of my mind. His family surrounded him- me on one side and Krista on the other- rubbing his arms and head and holding his hand. Shelley was at the bottom of the bed- spouses and BF there as well. Dad was sitting vigil as well. How can this all be true?! How can someone like Jimmy be gone from such a horrible thing?! Why the hell can't it be the scums of the Earth, and not the good people?!