Well, my Grandpa Ronnie died the other day, at age 85. Out of nowhere, really. On my birthday, really. His own mom, who we all called Nanny, had lived to 98! So yeah, 85? He'd be around at least another 10 years I think we all thought. But, a stroke thought differently. Anyway, he went fast, and peacefully. And with all his nearest and dearest around him. This isn't about that.  This is about the whole end of an era thing. And Grandpa Ronnie, and Grandma Mom.  It's about the whole end of an era thing like graduations births marriages divorces moves new jobs deaths...that kind of stuff. See, Grandpa Ronnie still lived in the home I spent a lot of my childhood at, starting back around 1985. It's the only physical place like that left, from my childhood. And it's going to have to go now. I will inherit pieces of it, and treasure photos of it, but I won't be in it again. I still remember the house they had even before 1985, with its wood paneling, its basement with