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April 30, 2004
A package arrived from a long lost relative. Tears. My grandfather's photo on the front cover of sheet music that he wrote. My grandmother as a young girl with a beautiful, exotic face. Catlike oval eyes. Snippets of their lives. Snippets. That must be a word. I know that my life is just a snippet and that what is remembered about me might be totally false. Or twisted. But. We all want the truth. My grandfather's truth was that he was a musician and actor. My mother said he was an alcoholic who kept running off. Can't sum it up.