Helen says that sometimes she can fly. In dreams. When the stuff that is happening on the ground becomes too much to deal with, she just lifts her arms and flies up above it all.
Loyal Smoke, the father of my long-time friend, Jay, died today, after 92 and ½ years of dealing with stuff on the ground. I suspect the stuff at his ground level just became too much to deal with, and he lifted the arms of his soul.
It’s a good thought. When the time comes, I’ll just lift my arms and…
“I’ll fly away, Oh Glory, I’ll fly away, in the morning. When I die, Hallelujah by and by, I'll fly away." [Alfred E. Brumley, 1929]
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