Tomorrow I head back to New Jersey, and this visit will be even harder than the last one was. Nobody wants to bury a sibling, especially a younger one. I told Ronnie in the hospital, "I'm the oldest of the six of us -- I'm the one that should go first." I guess he wasn't listening.
... and the family begins to gather between now and Saturday, the day of the funeral. Joan and Mary are already there. I get there tomorrow, followed by my sister Nancy coming from North Carolina. Thursday night, my brother Davy arrives from China. This is what we do. We are his family. The only good thing about funerals is getting to see people you haven't seen in a while.
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