So, This is Christmas at Fifty-Eight

I love the Christmas season. It’s a sensual spectacle for my soul. The yummy treats that appear only once a year, even if my appetite for them is a year-round event. The power of light to pierce the short December days and even longer December nights. The glorious music. The profane and holy, both speaking…

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Reflections on Aging, Life and Death at Fifty-Eight

We are born into an earthly existence that is measured in milestones, memories and moments. A process that begins at birth; recording our arrival time and location. A process that ends with death; recording our departure time and location. Our lives bookended by numbers that simply state our commencement and our closure as the dearly departed.  

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Rain and Gain

As much as we try and avoid the rain, it sustains life. Without it plants would wither, animals would become parched, and we would not grow. Moreover, we would die.

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