My Uncle John

I just got a call that my Uncle John died this morning. He's been in treatment at MD Anderson for a couple of years now for lung and kidney cancer. He was 52.

I had gotten a call from him last weekend, that ended with one of those "I'm so proud of you" talks, which did strike me as odd at the time. I specifically asked how he was doing, and he said he was fine. So now I don't know if he knew himself he was this sick and wasn't saying anything, or whether this took him by surprise. Not that it matters. These are just the things you think about in hindsight.

I hope he and Mom are somewhere having a margarita. (Because the afterlife is obviously like Key West? ...Something like that.)