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Amazing Grace...

Today I attended the funeral of a wonderful man who knew how to flirt with women of all ages, how to jitterbug with the best of them, and how to make a mean Whiskey Sour! And while I am sad that he's not in this world any longer, I'm grateful that he's now with his beloved wife whose passing pained him more than any physical ailment he quietly suffered. A dear, dear man...

When I was younger, the thought of dying someday scared the bejeezus out of me, but, happily, somewhere along the way that fear stopped gripping me at my throat. I realized that nothing is static. Change happens - a fact that has made the bad times endurable, and the sweet, quiet moments of each day come alive with magic.

The certainty of the cycle of life is a comfort to me; evidence of divine grace. I've witnessed the birth of new ideas and relationships, and the death of dreams and innocence. I know now that each waking is a birth of sorts and each going to sleep a dying. But while I'm awake I try to be alive - fully and completely. The better to flirt, the better to dance, and the better to enjoy a mean Whiskey Sour in Bill Fry's memory. That's more than just grace - that's Amazing Grace.


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