Every once in a while, I'll get a sentimental streak. 
No…. not John. John's never melancholy. Like Dan says, I like to sit around and contemplate my navel.
So, I ponder these words tonight: "Every man dies, not every man really lives."
What does that mean? I mean, trying to keep it out of the canned answers from the Sunday School pantry - what does that really mean? It means whoever wrote Braveheart had a way with words!
Just the other day - when we all were gathered in Kathy's hospital room - and the kids and Kathy and I scrunched together around that really flexible hospital bed for a family picture - you know, John Michael, Grace, Jackson, Ellie, Henry, Mom and Dad - I got this cool little feeling. Kind of like this is what it is to really live. I didn't want to let the moment go.
You ever have those kind of moments? I sure hope you do.
Welcome back, DaveE. We missed ya.