Tuesday was my birthday, and I started my day with a funeral. Last Wednesday was my Aunt’s funeral. Three days ago, which was one week and one day after my Aunt’s death, my grieving cousin announced her mother-in-law died. Life and death. The funeral I attended was for a 73 year old man named Ronnie. When he was a teenager, he met this girl, Pat. They fell in love and got married. Not long after, his brother married the sister of his sister-in-law. Two brothers married two sisters. The couples have lived on the same plot of land so long, the road is named after them. A story is told that, early on in their marriage, Pat had something important to discuss but Ronnie was “too busy” to listen. So Pat pointed a gun out the kitchen window and pulled the trigger. Ronnie came running, ready to listen. Ronnie was a gentle giant. He was a big, weather-hardened man who spent most of his professional career inspecting bridges. He took his job seriously. Anything he did, he took s...