“Lives distilled,” was how my first editor described the obituaries. He had written them when he was a journeyman reporter. It was a job nobody wanted, but one he learned to appreciate. Since meeting him, a daily paper hasn’t passed through my hands without my glancing at the death notices. This particular notice meant something to me:
23 candles you blew out
five years ago today
then you gave us one last smile
and wet upon your way
we cried and cried so much for you
it must have looked like rain
but when we saw your face at peace
and free from all the pain
we knew that God was good to you
and held you in His arms
shielding you from suffering
keeping you from harm
and so dear son and brother
enjoy yourself and rest
we know you're there in heaven
cuz on earth you were the bestIn loving memory of Bobby Thompson on his birthday. From Dad, Mom, and Shirley.
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