beware of Harlan Crow
photo mine
I've spent a lot of time this week thinking about what it means to be a son. What it means to be a brother. I don't have answers for either. So I'm just going to go cliché below. I've got a long day tomorrow. Psychiatrist which will be interesting. He knows my conflicts with my dad and his health problems but not that he's dead. Then out to Delavan where, and I found this out today, his widow (younger than me and my brother) expects us to help set up for the memorial Friday. She could have told us last week while arranging. Maybe she's actually grieving. I'll give her the benefit but don't really care if she's a black/merry widow. She took care of him and I didn't have to.
I just wish we could have kept to the plan of hanging with my siblings, my cousins, and visiting with my mom's brother who is hopefully recovering from blood cancer (don't know which one).
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