I sit in my home. My house. I bought it twenty-three years ago in anticipation of my sister's death from cancer and to fulfill her request that after her death I'd be guardian for her daughter. At the time I was living with Sherry. We'd been together for 15 years and had discussed taking on this responsibility together. And so, we bought the house... together. My sister died on the day we closed, so we moved in at the same time as we held a wake, and then buried my sister. That was January. By April Sherry had left me, and so had my niece choosing to live with her brother.