Today is 9-11. This day is three months exactly before the day you died. It's going to be five years this December. Fives and tens are usually pretty big. I wonder how I'll feel.
Today, six years ago, was the day the two buildings fell down in New York, the plane crashed in Pennsylvania and another into the Pentagon. I went to high school with a guy on the plane that hit the Pentagon, but I didn't know him all that well. I am sure a lot of moms and dads and kids and uncles and aunts and nieces and nephews and grandmas and grandpas are very sad today.
September 11 is also Bill Price's birthday. He is 93 years old today! Ten more years and he'll catch Aunt Ida. He has a way to go.
I saw Bill taking out the trash this morning as I walked out the door to catch the bus. I wished him a happy birthday. He said that he didn't feel a day older. I told him he didn't look a day older either. Bill is in great shape.
I want to live in our house when I am that old the way he does. He and Michael go for long rides in their convertible Mini Cooper. Soon they will go to Skyline Drive to look at the leaves.
Yesterday I got an email from someone looking for Grandma. I told him that she had died. Joe and I visited her grave when we came out and saw you this weekend. There was a lot of dead grass on her headstone but there was a big storm last night. I am sure that cleaned off the grass, dirt and bird poop from both of your headstones. I didn't have any wipes with me when we visited.
It felt good that someone wanted to get in touch with Grandma and didn't know she was dead.
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