I dont know what to say. Or rather where to start. Mum just called to say my uncle passed this morning. He wasnt exactly a blood relative. Or if he was, perhaps 8 degrees far. But growing up, he was a second father. Uncle Frank, RIP. I cant believe im doing another post about death so soon after the last. And this time I am not sitting composed at my desk saying "Death Be Not Proud" . I am in my car .crying. Crying for the man ive known since i was old enough to distinguish between different faces. The man whose house i toddled past on my way to nursery school each morning, whose wife would had me freshly baked sugar cookies. She was my brother's'godmother and i always wished she was mine. He and his wife called eachother 'love' till the day she died of breast cancer about 5 years ago. The man who called his last daughter 'champ'. That daughter, my best friend since forever. She called me 2 days ago to say she's'getting married in a few month...