Well, I'm at the cabin today, and the sun is going down, getting dark already, an hour earlier than the last time I noticed. Everywhere there are changing leaves, and that is a reminder that death comes for us all. But more on that later.
I had meant to type--briefly--about working on a TV series this morning, and how tired I got after it let out, driving toward the cabin, but what can I say? I am enamored of the film industry, and even as a lowly extra, I enjoy the lights and excitement and glamour.
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| A sight no one should have to witness (not just vampires). |
Sit-ups Today: 100
Sit-ups In September: 2435
Push-ups Today: 100
Push-ups In September: 2940
But instead, I guess I'll write about my uncle. You see, I drove home from my cousin's house last night around 1:40, and got home a bit after two, sitting in the car listening to Olivia Rodrigo singing Traitor before I killed the engine and went inside. My uncle John's truck was in the driveway, but I assumed someone was borrowing it.
I noticed I had a text from my sister, marked 2:06am, telling me my Uncle Len had passed away.
He had been in the hospital for weeks (between five and six, far as I can figure), and it had looked bad for him early on, but then he'd seemed to recover a bit. He's in Las Vegas, and I didn't speak to him, though my mom would forward the text messages he'd write and give the family reports every couple of days or so. Then, just yesterday, he took a turn for the worse, went back on the ventilator, and they were saying the recovery would be very slow, if he again managed to come out of it.
And he didn't. He was only fifty-seven.
My Uncle Len was a big deal to me, a funny guy, a strong guy, a supportive guy, talented and playful and sincere. I guess I ought to sit down and record a few words about him, rather than struggle with typing some here.
Talk to you later.
Words Today: 665
Words In September: 16,613
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