LIFE goes on...

"And, they, since they were not the one dead, turned to their affairs."
From Robert Frost's poem about the boy who lost his arm--and his life--cutting wood.

My 76-year-old neighbor was coming back from his bike ride...up the last hill...when he dropped dead of a massive heart attack. This kind of information always puts a period, or exclamation mark, at the end of whatever sentence we were living in. No more time to chat or sing or have fellowship with him.

I'm beginning to look more and more toward Glory....when we never have to say "goodbye".