Paul is a good man. A bit prone to gluttony, and a bit self-absorbed, but an Irish Catholic heart of gold and a true friend for life. He insisted that I join him for his family thanksgiving when he realized that I would be one of the few students left alone in the dorms for our first break from study in our freshman year, and his father said “of course”. It was a joyous celebration at his grandmother’s home, and there was a crowd the size I had never even imagined for a family event. I was welcomed, but out of place, and in a home were there seemed to be an abundance of absolutely everything.