I sat up in the strange bed fearing it had been a dream, afraid I would never see her again. Not because I wanted anything from her, only her presence. The disappearance of the presence of beauty is the most despairing of events on this time-wheel of ours that rolls onward towards death.

My faith gives me the ability to say, whatever is next, I’m ready. If it is Hillary or Trump I am ready because they might sit on the desk but they do not sit on the throne.

When I put down Lance Armstrong’s book, I understood something profoundly. Edie, if you can move, you’re not sick. I decided right then and there that no matter what cancer did to me I would continue to move. Movement was what the physical body was designed to do; it was how it coped and functioned. Movement was vitality. It was life.
I would move. Always. No matter what. Until my last breath, I would move.

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