When ever there is tragedy, there is hope. Out of death comes the wonderful perfume of the remembrance of all that is great in life. There is the reflection of the lives that are lost, ones of individuals that we will never know, or ever hope to grasp an understanding of. The horror of death, the loss that it brings, reminds us, the living, of all the wonderful moments that we encounter throughout each and every second that passes. It may all sound cliche and unsophisticated, but so be it.
And so it goes, the celebration of a new gray hair, well earned and relished. To know that from that moment, or more specifically, the one related to that space, with all of its experiences that were troubling or confused, that something solid, concrete has been found in life.