Every clock in our house says a different time. Off by hours, not just minutes. The bathroom sink is full of dry paint. The fire is running, on June 4th. And there's a giant pile of horse crap in our driveway. The world is out of whack.
Early this morning we learned of the sudden death of Vic's younger brother Keith last evening. While neither Laura nor I were exceptionally close with Keith, his wife or young son Kyle, the Forchette family has been a formidable presence in my life for the better part of two decades. We can't help but feel pitted, helpless, terrible, empty, as I'm sure doesn't begin to describe how the Forchette's feel. Thoughts have been with them throughout the day, and I'm sure into the coming weeks. I have no words. Love your family. Every chance you get.
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