"No matter how close to yours and another's steps have grown,
In the end there is one dance you'll do alone." (Jackson Browne)
It's Sunday afternoon. About an hour ago, we got a phone call from our son. A friend of mine died. Richard was 62 years old. He lived hard. He died hard. He made so many mistakes in his life, and, in his last six months, had so many regrets.
But Richard did some really good things, too. You see, he was the father to my step-children, Karen and Richie. Karen is the mother of my very best friend in the whole world: Daniel, my 8-year-old grandson. Karen's also the mother of the most incredible person I've ever known: Anna, my 6-year-old granddaughter.
There's sadness everywhere right now. I cry as I write this. The tears aren't so much for me, but for the ones I love--my step-children and my grandchildren. I hurt because they hurt.
On days like this, it makes me wonder: What does matter?
R.Burd, Teacher
BMHS
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