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Well, that's that.
Our across-the-street neighbor, Carl Ragusa, has died. He had to be ninety years old, at least, living alone after his wife died several years ago. He died with his children around him. The funeral home van just pulled away; we watched them load the gurney with Carl's body on it, draped in a gray blanket.
While I am ambivalent about the man, I am not about what his passing represents.
There's a lot to say, just not right now.
While I am ambivalent about the man, I am not about what his passing represents.
There's a lot to say, just not right now.