So i guess most of you (who actually reads this, anyway? becky and lesley?) already know this story, but my uncle died a week ago today. he slipped on ice in his driveway while getting the paper and suffered a hematoma. it was so unexpected; this was my uncle Doug, the one who survived a massive highway pile-up in 2006 and spent a year in
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thursday: i work and then teach my class from 4-7 and then i'm doing pizza and beer with my friend christy. you free wednesday? friday?
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friday maybe?
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One thing I still can't get over is this weird sense of injustice that I can't talk to my grandmother anymore. That if I read something she would like, or if I do something she would find exciting or see something she'd laugh at, I can't shoot her an email or mention it the next time I go over to her house. That fact still feels unnatural and unfair.
condolences.
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i know exactly what you mean. it's been nice having my mom and doug's wife to talk to when things make me think of him. it's still really jarring though, every time you realize you can't ever talk to someone.
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