This is Memorial Day Weekend.
Time to Remember your Dead.

I remember my grandmother, and visiting her grave on this weekend with my mother, though I don't know where that is now. She was usually very mean to everybody but me.

I remember my mother and how we forget and left her in the trunk of the car after she was cremated and how my brother and I joked about it later.

I remember my brother borrowing money from me and dying a week later.

I remember George getting caught in a restaurant parasol at a German café and doing a little penguin dance and making grunting noises until somebody released him. He's dead now, too.

It seems the longer you live, the more dead people you know.