For anyone who pays attention to my whereabouts or reads this column regularly, you may know that I left town recently to attend a memorial service for my father, who died Sept. 6 at age 86.
It was a good trip. The service was a true celebration of a wonderful life well lived, and I was able to spend some quality time with my mother, who maintains her warm and bright outlook on life. Plus, I saw more family than I could count and left feeling blessed to have such a big and boisterous clan to which to return during times of loss.
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