Jodi and I talked yesterday as to how convoluted our lives were and how intertwined the different groups who knew Les really were. I know of people Jody didn't know who knew Les -- I'm not expecting them to come to the wake or memorial, because they've grown away.
How to articulate this feeling? It's like being home.
Home is a strange concept. My family doesn't feel like home since my mother died, perhaps because my mother died in the Christmas season. I feel home at Starved Rick Lodge, however, because it seems welcoming.
I'm glad to be here, even if it's for a sad reason.
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