It's late, and I'm waiting for Jerry. He landed at Philly airport about an hour ago and is driving down here to Millville to join the mourners.
Today was a lovely though uneventful day spent with my three sisters and my niece Becky. We don't need to do much of anything: we just need to be together to grieve for our lost brother. Tonight, we spent time with Ronnie's son Michael, Michael's wife Tiffany, and their seven children, and it was refreshing. James sang for us. We ate Dunkin Donuts. Delanda was scratched by their dog and had to be bandaged up. A couple of the kids frolicked in the pool. Plans were made for a family reunion in August. It was all about life.
Tomorrow probably would have been the date of Ronnie's funeral -- it was the logical choice -- but it would also have been his 61st birthday, and his wife Denise didn't want us to mourn his death on the date of his birth: the date of his birth should always be a celebration. So the funeral is Saturday. A good decision.
Tomorrow, on Ronnie's birthday, I'll tell you a story...
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