A friend who had been diagnosed with cancer and given but weeks to live, called me to ask if I would be a pallbearer. Two weeks later I was. I didn't enjoy it, but I enjoy knowing that when there was nothing else I could do for him, I could at least honour him. I have a great picture of him standing in my run down old aluminum boat, holding a smallmouth bass, with the grin that I came to know always accompanied some wisecrack or another. He was the funniest guy I ever knew and the kindest friend. Before he died he told me that if he found out how to outfish me from Jesus, he'd think about sending me a sign. I told him I would see him soon enough, he could tell me then. I know he's with me somehow, and that can't be taken from me. I don't have to grieve anymore, I can still remember.

Peace, Mooh.