I had to take my car in today. That's another story, but the shuttle driver and I chatted the whole drive to my house. He was a nice guy. We talked cars, jobs, and Obama. As we turned into my neighborhood, he said he knew several people who used to live in area, but they all lost their jobs and their homes. Anyway, he asked if our house was a 2-story. Simple question, right? Nope. I nearly cried. Our house is a 2-story. As was our last one. We picked them because of Ian. I remember the whole discussion over whether a 1-story would be better, and then deciding that having to go up and down stairs all the time would be good for him.
He has been part of every decision we've ever made. Now what?
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