The Parting Glass
The voice mail greeting caught me off-guard. My sister and I went out to Los Angeles last week to attend the memorial service for our Uncle Joe, who died on New Year’s Day. As soon we got off the plane, I called Joe’s wife, Sara, to let her know we were in town and the next thing I know I’m hearing my uncle’s voice telling me to leave a message. Of course, with so many things going on, changing the voice mail greeting is hardly a priority. But hearing Joe’s voice again just reminded me how much I missed him and how much I enjoyed our Sunday afternoon phone conversations. And if felt so strange being in Los Angeles without seeing Joe. If I'm in L.A., I'm going to see Joe. The two are inseparable in my mind, which is not surprising given that whenever I went out there, I stayed with Joe and Sara. This time, though, we were sharing an Airbnb with our cousin Keir and his family. Keir was part of the memorial service, which was held at Griffith Park, where Jo...