This morning my Uncle, the man I'm named after, died. The lung cancer finally did him in.
We all saw this coming. We knew this day would arrive, especially him, and yet I still feel... I dont know, bizarre. Sad even. I feel bad for my Father, after all, its not easy to bury a sibling. The thing that bothers me most however is our name. Henry Franklin Weitl... is dead. I know that soon I will see my name on a tombstone. People will mourn with that name in their heads. At the funeral they will see me and the only thing on their minds will be sadness... loss... depression. Its sort of fucking with my mind. On Wednesday my Father and I will spend the day making arrangments along with the rest of the Weitl family.
Its strange how someone has died and my own name is the only one on my mind... I guess its okay, because he who died and I share that same name.

Good-bye Henry Franklin Weitl.