When we were all getting ready to leave, I walked up to my grandfather and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek. He wiped my lip print off with his palm and gave me a look. He doesn't like the boys in the family to touch him. But I'm very glad that I did it anyway in case he dies. I never got to do that with my Aunt Helen.

and for the first time in my life I understand the end of that poem. And I never wanted to. You have to believe me.

I guess when you see somebody in the hallway or on the field or something, it's nice to know that they are a real person.

Even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there.

Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn't stop for anybody.

Everyone is special in their own way.

You can't just sit there and put everyone's lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love. You just can't. You have to do things.