I had one of those weekends that made me glad to get back to work on Monday.

Wednesday night I took Frankie in to the hospital. He never got back to me. We had him hooked up to all sorts of tubes and wires. I had a (perhaps) irrational idea that he might be able to fight his way through it. Like I could will it the same way I willed myself through some of my issues. Maybe I thought we could throw money at the problem. I really thought he could make it.

He is already missed.