Everything I Don't Remember Read Online Free PDF

behind the wheel. All I had to do was go up to the driver’s side and look at him for him to apologize and shove over next to the others. He
knew the drill, and soon we were on the highway and had dumped the goods at a warehouse and then we drove back to Vasastan to drop off our belts and gloves and joke with Blomberg that this was our
last day of work ever.
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    In her seventh and final email, his mom writes that nagging won’t change anything. Neither I nor my daughter wishes to meet with you. Not even over “a quick cup of
coffee.” What we want most of all is to ask you to drop all of this. But if you do persist in moving forward, it’s important for you to change all the names and specify that in no way
did I stay “in the background” after the fire. I did not have a “sudden rush of bitterness” toward either Samuel or my mother. My siblings and I simply chose to divide up
the responsibilities. My eldest brother took care of the practical matters surrounding the house—contacting the authorities, the insurance company, the firefighters, and the police. My
younger brother was responsible for making sure Mom felt secure at the home, he informed the staff about what had happened and tried to stop by to see Mom as often as he could to keep her calm. On
the doctors’ recommendation we decided not to tell her what had happened to the house. They said it would be best if she was allowed to believe that it was still there and that she could go
back if she wanted to. I was responsible for Mom’s documents. I looked for missing receipts and contracts of sale and blueprints and organized them all in carefully labeled binders. But as
usual, my efforts ended up being overshadowed. They always do. When Mom first got sick I spent a week canceling her newspaper subscriptions, paying her bills, and doing her taxes. At the same time,
my youngest brother stopped by and replaced a bulb in an Advent star lamp. Then he hung it up in the dining-room window and Mom talked about that star for several weeks.
    “It hangs so perfectly in the window and it gives just the right amount of light and your brother even said he can install a timer on it! He’s quite the little electrician. I never
saw the like. What would I do without him?”
    At the same time, I was taking care of all her financial matters and I hardly got a thank you in return. Apparently that was nothing compared to the time my brothers came by the home and took
her to Kista to eat at a drive-in McDonald’s. They had banana milkshakes! And ate apple pie! To hear her tell it, her beloved sons had invented milkshakes, drive-in restaurants, the road, the
sky, and the air around them as they sat there munching in the car. There are some things you’re just expected to do as a daughter. Those things always take more time. Toward the end I
didn’t have as much time to visit her as my brothers did, so it was nice that Samuel had offered to take time off and drive to the hospital. I don’t feel guilty. I don’t regret
anything. It was my brothers’ responsibility to keep the car in good shape. They ought to have told Samuel that the brakes were bad and the tires were worn down. If they had done that,
everything would have turned out differently.
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    I waited a few days before I contacted Samuel. I thought there was no rush. I knew he was a special person because he talked to people he didn’t know as if he thought they
were ace and he listened to people like he really was curious about what they had to say. And it wasn’t until later on that I got that what was special about Samuel wasn’t that he was a
good or a bad listener, it was that he was an unusual listener. Because he listened without listening. Or, how about this. He listened without wanting to understand. Or he listened without caring.
The most important thing for him was that he never wanted it to be quiet and there were many times I told him stuff that he didn’t seem to remember three