Photo from Chicken Little the Movie
And, apparently, it has been falling – literally. Billy Mays was recently, reportedly, hit on the head by flying plane debris. The gods didn’t get him then, so they got him this morning. Why?
Perhaps there is a network in Heaven that is reconfiguring its fall line-up. It needed a business plan (albeit a poor one) a regime, an emcee, a musician, a leading lady and an ad man. I hope they don’t need a critic anytime soon. I’ve got a baseball game to go to.
All jokes set gingerly aside, I feel incredible compassion for all those who have been visited this past week by the unwelcome guest of grief. After losing a dear friend exactly one year ago to a lengthy and notably brave bout with cancer (today is the unveiling of his headstone) I know what it is like to love and lose and carry on despite the tears that on many occasion slow your gait.
Peace to all, and let’s rejoice in the prescience of each other's presents.