His life, his interests, his sometimes quirky frame of mind in words and pictures. A flyover of my life.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Sunday, February 2, 1992
The weather is unseasonably mild; we seem to have leapt six weeks into the year. I look forward to a walk with the boys, but Eddie takes a long nap, nearly three hours. By the time he's up, I have to leave the house for Jim Barber's memorial service. A phone call from the police tightens my schedule. The dispatcher received an intrusion alarm. One of the front doors was left unlocked, I conclude to myself. That's turns out to be the case.
When I arrive at the First Unitarian Church, I can't notice but how full the parking lot is. The service for Jim is very touching. I feel a lot, not getting to know a very special person. During an unexpected recessional, I choke on a hairball of emotion while giving Gale a hug of greeting. I immediately feel a little silly but later on realize just how true the emotion was. Before I leave the reception, I try to work my way back to Gale, just to exchange a few words, but there are too many other people who want to greet her and express their sympathies. I end up talking at length with Ellen Lindgren and Margie Marion.
On the way home, I stop at Office Depot on Whitney Way to pick up some computer supplies.
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