A couple of weeks ago I was waiting for a green light at a very busy intersection. I watched a man make a left turn while actively texting. He did not look up the entire duration of the turn. His car was plastered with driver's education decals and stickers.
As I made a left turn through a busy intersection yesterday, I noticed a man standing in the median. His shirt said, "EVERY DAMN DAY." I liked it.
I think of my uncle often. I am still angry about his death. He was loved. He suffered alone for so many days after his first stroke. He was sent home from work showing symptoms. Why did no one call us? Why did they allow my uncle to spend his last days alone when he had so many who loved him? Could he have lived if found sooner? I hate it.
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