Today I'm driving out to Purdy, WA to bring a bong full of ashes to the father of my brother, Isaiah "Izzy Truelove" Sweeny.  I'm not sure who all will be there, at this 4th and final memorial for him, but I know that most of us hadn't seen him in person for anywhere from months to years. A decade or more in some cases. The kid was a bit of a phantom. His sudden death at 22, the youngest of the brothers, has sent a shockwave that has reached even the most distant parts of this fragmented family of mine.  In his death, I realize how his brilliance really worked. 

He knew what was NOT important in life. And as I sit here writing this, I realize that's just about everything...



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anybody want a hug?