I went back to my old neighborhood last week and found that the house Frank and I had built and lived in for almost 25 years had been torn down by the people we sold it to. Makes me sad, first he is gone and now our house is gone. We actually built it all ourselves, it was perfect for the two of us and it was built with love.
Sometimes it seems like I am the only one who remembers him anymore. His family has not contacted me in over a year (4 grown kids, his not mine, his sister, his brother).