Those of you who read every word of my blog (I am not sure if that person exists, but regardless…), know that I went back “home” this weekend for the memorial service of a very dear friend of mine. His name was Gary Temple, and I first met him when I was in his sixth grade classroom.
He started out as my teacher, then a father-figure, and eventually a dear friend. He died a few weeks ago and shortly afterwards I was asked if I wanted to speak at the memorial service. I do not know if there is anyone that ever wants to speak at a funeral, after all it means that the subject of the talk is no longer alive, but for me, I felt like I needed to speak.
I guess a part of me felt guilty…
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