The summer before my freshman year of high school, while visiting my dad in California, I met the woman who would later become my step-mother. Upon returning to Maine, I met the man who would later become step-father #1. I was also told that we were moving in with him and his son. Between all that and the depression that was already starting to take root, it was not a good time of my life. I eventually ended up living with my grandmother but I would visit my mom, Ned and "Cody" on the weekends. Ned and I developed a sort of friendship and Cody really felt like my younger pest of a brother. While certainly not perfect, we seemed to function well as a weekend family.
Of course things changed, divorce happened and I never saw or talked to Ned again. I also lost touch with Cody after he graduated from college. Mom married step-father #2 and life went on. I knew this day would come, and actually thought it would be sooner as he smoked like a chimney, but didn't know how I would react or what I would do. Since hearing the news I've left my condolences for Cody on an online guestbook and shared a bit with all of you. I think I'm good, I've done what I need to do. Rest in peace.
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