We’re going to a wake today. J was 64 years old, far too young. He had some sort of infection, had been in the hospital for months. I didn’t know J well, I’d met him only twice. J’s sister R, who died two years ago, was Drew’s sister’s best friend in high school. Drew and I bought a car from J in 1987, and I didn’t see him again until R’s wake two years ago. Which brings me to the weird story. J adored his older sister. They lived next door to each other, R in the house their parents owned, J in the house their parents built for him when he got married. R never married, and J took care of her. R died on November 20, 2016, just two weeks shy of her 66th birthday. She was home alone when she suffered a fatal heart attack. J found her body around 2:30 that afternoon. J died on November 20, 2018 at around 2:30 PM. Two of J’s children say that last week they dreamed of their Aunt R, and that R told them “I’m coming to get your father, and there’s nothing yo