Tuesday, June 5, 2018

herb davis, rip

Today was the 30th anniversary of my grandfather's death.

Grandpa Herb died a little bit shy of my 23rd birthday. I was in Ann Arbor at the time, having just finished my first year of graduate school at the University of Michigan. I got the call on Sunday morning, and was in New York that afternoon. I spent a week in New York while my mother sat shiva.

When I got back to Ann Arbor and went through my mail, I found the birthday card Herb had sent me the evening before he died. I still have that card.

I miss you, Herb.

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