" Well, you may have loved it last night, but I certainly don't love it now. Will you get up so I can clean this bed." It may have been my imagination... but the expression on her face told me, she was trying to remember what had happened last night."But I did love it, last night," I said, as I got out of the smelly bed, "and I think you loved it too, didn't you?" Well, I guess I must have loved it, or I certainly wouldn't have made this terrible mess. Get up, sleepyhead, and let's get this bed. The family, the happiness I'd made for myself had been ripped away. I was less than I'd ever been before. And I was still dying. Every second of every minute of every hour that passed, I died one more time. I couldn't break the link.Mom tried to get me to come back with them. I wouldn't do it. I had to bury Carlie and our baby.The Van Lutens of Dover, Delaware made arrangements to have my wife and baby flown back east. I was told, over the phone by Mrs. Van Luten herself, that if I ever set. It’s fascinating to see the difference between what you see on screen and what was going on on the set… I love seeing who was arguing with who, what went wrong, all that kind of stuff… I was watching your show, and I was thinking about what it must be like on set… The gap between the passion and excitement on screen, and the technical requirements of filming… I really wanted to be on the set, I wanted to watch… My dream job would be to work on the show – to be part of the support crew,. “We need things, Hory. We can afford some coffee and tea this year. I’ll buy a little more sugar this time, too. Would you like ice candies this winter? I’ll take the cart and mule and return before sundown.”“Buy bandages, and medicine for Greatgran,...” He rattled off a list. I memorized it.Only one of us could go into town. Maintaining the farm and pigs was normally a twelve hour job for four people. My son and I barely managed to keep it from falling apart. Our house suffered, but the pigs.