So, an 801 phone number calls just a few minutes ago, and I think, "hmmm, who in Utah wants to talk to me?" It was a Sister from membership/records department of The Church. She gently says, "Sister Parnell, I know this phone call is going to be difficult for you, just because it seems out of nowhere...I'm trying to complete the membership record for your brother Denny Allen Truman, and I know he passed away, but could you give me the date for our records?" It did hit me out of nowhere, I obviously wasn't expecting anyone to call me and want me to talk to about Denny's death. To be honest, I couldn't remember the exact date, I had to look it up on the calendar - not that it was written down, just the exact date of the Monday in June he died on. June 12, 2006. My voice caught a little. I guess I don't think about it much. Even through all the drugs, he was a pretty good uncle, when he was sober and I'd let him be around my kids, and I'm going to have a baby he's never going to meet. I'm not saying this in a sad way, more like in a thoughtful way, like pulling up a memory or random thought, considering it for just a moment, and filing it back away in my mind.