Back to work tomorrow

And how I will miss Sandy. 

What can I say about him?

He was my Selkirk Avenue Father. He was the unofficial CEO of Indian Family Centre. He was the Mother of the North End. He had an uncanny ability for watchfulness. He knew when something was out of the ordinary. He knew personal histories. He knew who he trusted, and who he didn’t. And he always had a good reason.

Oh, Sandy, how I will miss you. You taught me how to do my job. You worried about me like the proverbial mother hen. You made me coffee every morning, bossed me into eating breakfast, cooked me way too many eggs in way too much lard. You smoked cigarettes and even though you went through a pack a day, you shared half of that with anyone who would ask.

You played the tough guy very well, unless it concerned children or animals. 

I just realized, now that you are gone, that you had slowed down considerably. You weren't as desperate at 8 in the morning for the store to open so you could get your pack. 

I suppose you knew your heart was going. And so a bit of mine is gone, as well.