Missing Things

I don't know why the font will never stay the way it was in my first entry. I liked that better.

I realized that my last entry was April 25, my uncle Alan's birthday. I do not remember for sure anymore how old he'd have been. Not 50 yet, I don't think.

Uncle Alan, I miss you. I imagine that you would teach me how to drive (maybe even standard or a truck), and sort out my romantic life or lack thereof. But that's just because you're missing, so I imagine you would fill in all my missing skills/needs.

What I really want to know is whether you would have liked the woman I've become as much as you liked the girl I was. You gave me the best compliment of all in valuing my opinion. I only wish you could hear my thoughts now. I miss yours, and your big hands shoving a pickle in my mouth when I least expected it.

Goodbye again. I wish I thought of you more, but sometimes it's strange how often I do. They're making a movie of Hitchikers Guide to the Galaxy. More on this later. I love you.