As arrogant as it is of me, when my husband died in New Year's Eve of 2014. After a few months of crying and feeling sorry for myself, I decided I would step into the roles my husband had been filling.
I decided that I would help take care of his parents(his mom was still with us). That I would try to be a good Aunt to his nieces and (even though he hadn't been born until November of that year) his nephew. Over ten years I've had to admit that I am a terrible Aunt and I am no substitute for the man. He was an EMT, fire fighter, had at one point served as an assistant coroner and had an eidetic memory. Compared to that? I am nothing. I can't even clean or cook worth a darn and I am absolute shit as an aunt.
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