This past December I had to say good-bye to my favorite subject, my “adopted” dad, Pop. He was 83. My heart ached as I watched his last breath and I remembered doing the very same thing 15 1/2 years ago when I watched my dad expel his final breath.

Death is an enemy, not something to look forward to no matter how bad one’s life is. Nor is it a port to somewhere else. Death is the opposite of life.

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