My grandfather was the best friend I had in the world. He was a latter-day saint of the best stripe. Hundreds and hundreds loved him dearly, and for good cause. After many great conversations about life and death, he died in front of me. I saw him make the decision to die after spending a week of harrowing nights with him in the hospital with a chest tube in his side. I knew his faith, and from what I know of the world, it was the best of faiths. He lived his life by reason, and he loved by the Spirit. When he stood before God when he was cut him down, he was at peace. Before he died, he listened to a lot of Johnny Cash. My thoughts went out to him last Sunday.
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Marc on Wasteland