But You Grab A Moment, Or You

Mothers Support Certain Illusions About Their Children, And One Of My Illusions Was That I Liked Who I Was, Because She Did. When She Passed Away, So Did That Idea.

You'll Come To My Grave? To Tell Me Your Problems?" My Problems? "yes.' And You'll Give Me Answers? "i'll Give You What I Can. Don't I Always?" I Picture His Grave, On The Hill, Overlooking The Pond, Some Little Nine Foot Piece Of Earth Where They Will Place Him, Cover Him With Dirt, Put A Stone On Top. Maybe In A Few Weeks? Maybe In A Few Days? I See Myself Sitting There Alone, Arms Across My Knees, Staring Into Space. It Won't Be The Same, I Say, Not Being Able To Hear You Talk. "ah, Talk . . . " He Closes His Eyes And Smiles. "tell You What. After I'm Dead, You Talk. And I'll Listen.

I Was A Workaholic. I Never Stopped. I Lived In Fifth Gear. I Bought Cars. I Invested In Stocks. I Made More Money Than I Had Ever Imagined.

I Don't Know About Heaven Or Hell, But I Do Know That We Are Visited All The Time By The Spirits Of Those Who Affected Us In Life.

Dor Shook His Head. “the Phrase. What Does It Mean?” Sarah Wondered If He Was Kidding. “time Flies? You Know, Like, Time Goes Really Fast And Suddenly You’re Saying Goodbye And It’s Like No Time Passed At All?” His Eyes Drifted. He Liked It. “time Flies.” “with You,” She Added.