Mitch's grandma died this morning. She complained of chest pains, closed her eyes and died at 2 am. She was supposed to get her new pacemaker installed this morning. The funeral is already scheduled for tomorrow at 3:00. Mitch wants to, err, he feels he should, go since he's her only grandchild and all. He's flying out in the morning, going to the funeral, and flying home tomorrow night. It's going to just feel like he was at work for a long time that day. Only not. It's all very strange. I don't really feel anything about it. I'm not sure I'm even supposed to. She called me the other day, and I didn't call her back. Most people might feel badly about that, but I really don't. Hmm.
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