“There is a Cherokee expression: ‘When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.’ Today, the world cried because of the loss of a ‘balding man with a booming voice.’ At six o’clock this morning, you said good-bye to the pain and suffering that you’ve endured so bravely over the two years since you were diagnosed with cancer.”

“Surely you remember that I told you I never wanted to be single again. You weren’t supposed to ever leave me. Tonight, I went out with my friend Rebecca. Wow, are things different now than they were twenty years ago.”

“In all honesty (and I have to be honest with you now that you’re an angel), I think I’ve become reckless in my grief. In some way, I feel like I’m going around in a fog. Maybe they should suspend your driver’s license, when you’re going through mourning!”

“You know the plan we discussed regarding the house and motor home if anything happened to you? Well, I didn’t handle things exactly as we had discussed. It was more of a guideline, wasn’t it?”

“In the final weeks of your life, I knew that I would ultimately need either counseling or exorcism—whichever came first. Those were very bad days and weeks.”

“I keep thinking about what we could have done differently to fight your cancer. What decisions would we have made if we had been able to see into the future?”

“I seem to be able to persevere during the day, but for the nights I still require a sleep aid. I can control my conscious mind to a certain extent, but beware the subconscious mind.”