?Ignorance is bliss,? my grandfather advised as we sat reflecting on the front porch. Like wine I felt my grandfather had aged to perfection. He too became more cherished with age. Our topic of discussion was one we did not talk of often. Death. Death and how unexpectedly and swiftly it can change lives. Specifically, however, we were discussing David, my mentor, my neighbor, and my friend.
At the ripe young age of nine one does not have many worries, of course if Barbie is missing a shoe the world will end, but other than that one would say life is pretty easy. I, as a child, could play all day and destroy my toy bin. I would revamp my bedroom by turning it into a fort and miraculously end up in my bed the next morning with the room clean and toys straightened only to do it all again that day. Such luxuries as these left little to no room for stress and worrying. However, anytime the folks caused a little disruption in my calm homeostasis I would trot my way right over to my neighbors. David seemed to know everything. From
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