i am sitting here, the train whistle in the background.. i dont know what it is that trains can sometimes do to me.. takes me back... Uncle Milo, we didnt get to know each other well but the few times we interacted left its mark on me..

there was the time everyone thought i had hit my sister one day in an argument.. she'd taken my favorite model car that i was still working on and threw it so it smashed.. we were younger then.. i had brought the car from Kansas with me, the only thing besides some clothes that i remember.. mom had been out of the hospital about 5 yrs, single, working two jobs..

you took me outside and began hitting me.. no one believed me i hadnt hit her.. you wanted me to know that hitting girls is wrong and i still agree...

then there was the time when you saw the book i was reading and you said you were glad that i was looking into Hinduism and Buddhism instead of the other... it changed the course of things a lot but its not your fault of course.. i kept reading about Eastern Mysticism Uncle Milo.... i still read the other too and it helps me to understand some things about the afterlife..

i am not here to grieve you this Memorial Day .. you were a vet in Viet Nam... i am here to honor you.... love always (((Milo)))))