Of late, much of my social life has been dominated by visiting wakes of departed friends. Like countless of his friends and admirers, I joined in grieving Angelo Castro’s passing with much sorrow.
I woke up at 4 the past two mornings to tears flowing down my cheeks. They came unbidden, no gulps or sobs, just a waterfall of tears, and are in relation to the man struggling for life in the hospital room across the hall—the love of my life, my husband, Angelo Castro Jr.
