I Traded Lots Of Dreams For A

In The Beginning Of Life, When We Are Infants, We Need Others To Survive, Right? And At The End Of Life, When You Get Like Me, You Need Others To Survive, Right?’ His Voice Dropped To A Whisper. ‘but Here’s The Secret: In Between, We Need Others As Well.

A Wind Blew, And The Sand Around His Drawing Scattered. He Wrapped His Fingers Inside His Wife's, And Father Time Rekindled A Connection He Had Only Ever Had With Her. He Surrendered To That Sensation And Felt The Final Drops Of Their Lives Touch One Another, Like Water In A Cave, Top Meets Bottom, Heaven Meets Earth. As Their Eyes Closed, A Different Set Of Eyes Opened, And They Rose From The Ground As A Shared South, Up And Up, A Sun And A Moon In A Single Sky.

I Hope You Never Hear Those Words. Your Mom. She Died. They Are Different Than Other Words. They Are Too Big To Fit In Your Ears. They Belong To Some Strange, Heavy, Powerful Language That Pounds Away At The Side Of Your Head, A Wrecking Ball Coming At You Again And Again, Until Finally, The Words Crack A Hole Large Enough To Fit Inside Your Brain. And In So Doing, They Split You Apart.

In Heaven, There Is No Judgment, But Rather An Opportunity To Examine Our Lives-who We Touched, The Choices We Made, And The Consequences Of Those Choices.

"you Marked The Minutes," The Old Man Said. "but Did You Use Them Wisely? To Be Still? To Cherish? To Be Grateful? To Lift And Be Lifted?"