Tomorrow will be the 12th of April. He would have been 88 years old.
It’s hard to think that he’s not here any more. I don’t think about him often, but when I do it hurts me so hard. It’ll be strange reasons too. I’ll discover a great recipe that I want to cook for him, or I’ll be told a cool joke. Or I’ll have a choice to make and I’ll know that he would have known the answer…
This branch of the family line is now down to Steven and myself. And since GB and I have decided not to have kids, it’s all down to Steven. God, we’re fucked…
Tags: family
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