Under the Wire

If I have ever written a classic column, it would be this one. No probably 30 or more years later, I want to share it with you all again.

I felt really guilty, standing there watching an old friend go up in smoke. Disloyal, a traitor. All described my emotions as the flames danced and consumed. It had started a few weeks after Christmas last year. It was hard to imagine such a happy occasion resulting in such sadness now. Maybe it’s a law of physics or an unwritten axiom, I’m just not sure, but the two events were definitely linked.

My friend’s cremation began with a gift. As other family memb...