Hey! Hold on! If you were a hot dog, would ya eat yourself? I know I would. I’d be delicious…Oh, sorry. I forget sometimes that I’m not Harry or Will. Regardless, I love hot dogs. I’ll probably get 100 e-mails about how unhealthy, bad for the environment, and un-American they are. They’re the next target after some people succeed in convincing us that SUVs are from Satan. Or at least they know Jesus wouldn’t drive one. I forgot that there’s no Satan in that worldview, because there’s no Hell. “Too many bad vibes, man.”
Today, you’re 35. Or at least you would be, in this place. You probably know this, but we’re OK. Not great, but OK. We know you wouldn’t want us moping around and weeping all the time. We try not to. Actually, I guess part of the problem is that you didn’t know how much we loved you. And that you didn’t know how to love yourself. I hope you have gotten to Love by now. Not a place, but fills everything in every way. I’m not Him, but he probably said, “Dear daughter/sister, you have been terribly hard on yourself. Rest now, and be at peace.” Anyway, teaching is going well, and I tell the kids all about you. They all say you are pretty. I usually can keep the boys from saying something gross for a few seconds. Mom and I are going to the game tonight. And like 6 more times, before I go back to South Carolina. I have seen Nicky twice, but I myself haven’t seen your younger kids. Bob took pictures of the day we said goodbye, and we did a family picture at the Abbey. I literally almost a...
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