I just remembered where I was when Francis became the Pope (in Antigua, Guatemala in a little cafe buying pastries, watching the little old ladies cry as a Latin American became Pope). I'll probably not remember my circumstances when I found out he died (at home, drinking coffee before I go to work, posting on Perfectly Imperfect)
But thinking back to that day in 2013, I remember so many little sensory details. It's fun to fill it all in.
And RIP to someone who sucked less than almost all other options, probably
