There is no fair in life and death. If it were, no good men would die young.

This is a story about a man named Eddie and it begins at the end, with Eddie dying in the sun.

Once heaven is done with grandma, we'd like her back, thanks.

When hope is gone, time is punishment.

Miracles happen quietly every day - in an operating room, on a stormy sea, in the sudden appearance of a road side stranger. They are rarely tallied. No one keeps score.

For years I wrote in my basement. More recently I graduated to one floor above, an office with all my books and music and - ta da! - a window.

People say they 'find' love, as if it were an object hidden by a rock. But love takes many forms, and it is never the same for any man and woman. What people find then is a certain love. And [he] found a certain love with [her], a grateful love, a deep but quiet love, one that he knew, above all else, was irreplaceable.