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A year without Pop

One year ago I got a call in the middle of the night. My cousin April was on the phone telling me my father was gone. I was half asleep and incoherent, not sure if I was really hearing what she was saying. She kept saying she was sorry and trying to give me more information than I could process in the moment. A stranger named Jennifer had called her with the terrible news. My uncle Trent, Pop's youngest brother, had the details. As I woke up fully, I started making calls, first to Trent, then my brothers, then Eileen (my father's longtime partner), then ... I don't know what happened. My memory isn't blank but it isn't clear either. That's probably for the best.

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