By George, those biceps could lift anything!!

When Dad died, it was like a series of tiny moments running into each other, yet all so distinct. I was SO aware of living in the face of death. There is something precious about this. I feel we often walk around our little planets only half alive, slumbering at the bottom of an ocean of great expanse. If Dad could give me anything in his process of dying, it was actually an awareness of life. An awareness of the huge meaning of tiny moments. The significance of my actions and word. That regardless of reality, we have the power to bring life or death by how we choose to exist.

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DEATH, THOU SHALT DIE

I was overcome at the moment of Dad’s last breath. Overcome with something so profound and surprising. The words that came from my mouth were the last things one would cognitively say at that moment. The words that bubbled forth amidst the tears were, “You just won Dad, you just won.”

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This Christmas Memory

Before I write anything, can I just point out the glorious moustache dad is sporting!! I remember trying to pull that thing off when I was a kid. Little did he know, they would now be the height of hipster fashion today! Ok, moving on…

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Beauty is…

Beauty does not linger, it passes by with an invitation to things eternal.
It draws us toward an embrace of wonder and life and wraps us, momentarily, in that which changes us.

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