I am a mere ten years away from the age my grandpa was when I made my appearance in this world. I almost arrived on his birthday, which was just two days after mine, but I chose Palm Sunday 1964 instead. We shared thirty-five birthdays before he passed on at the age of 95, and I still miss him, especially when our birthdays come around. It's hard to believe he'd be one hundred ten years old by now. Time goes faster all the time, and now I am sounding like those "old" people I once knew.
Time. It takes away those we love and makes heaven all the sweeter.
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