Thursday, September 11, 2014


I once lit a candle in a church for someone I lost long ago. I don't believe; I'm not even marginally agnostic. I am, in fact, soundly bereft of faith. But I was in a special place, and I knew how moved my beloved would have been, standing there in his modest suit, his fedora in hand, an expression of pain and respect and grace on his lined face. I took a candle and placed a dollar on the plate, and I lit the candle with fat, copious tears in my eyes, on his behalf, for the thousands that died mere yards away.

So does my love for him.


  1. you're such a good writer :( this must be where i got it from.
    sad to hear this but happy i could read it.


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