I was 42, hadn’t talked to my uncle in years. I did not know he was dying… I found myself one night at sunset, walking the beaches we’d visit with him when we were kids, watching the sunset and reading poetry on death and dying. Woke up the next day to hear that he was gone — had passed away in the hospital at 58… the threads that weave us together are mysterious and wonderful… I will remember, I hope, the sense that we go on, as the journey continues.