What sorts of things do you google when your favorite person in the world is determined to leave it?

But love, like a mushroom high compared with the buzz from cheap weed, outlasts grief.

During that time, The Mouth came by to pray with us, and my dad began to spend his evenings sitting in the yellow lawn chair and staring at the highway, or down in the basement with his isotope material, finding comfort in the stability that's created from decay.

...and I put on "All My Love" and watched the sun rise yet again and thought thank you Robert Plant for all your love but do you have anymore?