RIP

My heart is breaking. My Uncle Kerry died this morning all alone in his house, with no one around. A neighbor called and when no one answered, went over to check and found the door open and him dead on the floor - called my Auntie Sue who lives nearby.

Typical Florida death, soon swarmed with cops and coroners eagerly looking for foul play and treating friends and relatives like the enemy when they can't find what they want. They are thinking it was a heart attack because he had high blood pressure and was an insulin dependent diabetic and didn't take good care of himself after his wife left a few years ago.

My Uncle Steve is flying down to help out because both my mom and I live too far away and Auntie Sue is too old and mentally fragile (and in the middle of moving down to live in the same complex as my mom).

I can't say anything publicly because I don't know if my cousins (Uncle Steve's kids) know yet and my sister does not know (and I don't know when mom will tell her).

I was named after him. Kerry was his nickname, his real name was Curtiss (as in my grandfather and my son). He was only 67 but in my head, I always pictured him like in my avatar. He had a convertible when I was little and would drive me around, excited and half terrified with the wind blowing. He also used to give me sips of his rum & coke. Both things would probably get him arrested today. LOL