17 January 2007

On Mount Whitney

Paul's best friend Robin just sent this along.

As my friend Bob Pfohman would say, "We were happier then."

Except then comes my mother, who would say, "Act happy, dammit!"

And she's right. We do have to act happy. We owe it to each other.

So cheers. Here's to life and the future. As the poem says,

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

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