The Passing Of A Friend

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A man I knew died last week.

He was 52. He was a peer of my younger sister, but when you grow up in a small town like we did, everyone is your friend.

Godspeed, Todd.

The world is a little dimmer today without your bright light, but I know the Angels welcomed you home.

We will all feel your loss until that day when we, too, join you in our Heavenly home.



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    I was born in the Redwood Country of Northern California. An honor student in high school, I turned down a full tuition scholarship to Humboldt State University to marry at age seventeen and go on to have three children in the next five years. I’ve never forgotten that starry-eyed girl who dreamed of becoming a newspaper journalist. I settled for an AA in Sociology and a minor in Business from College of the Redwoods and eventually found a career in telecom. Starting as a telephone operator and working my way up to a management position in purchasing with a large independent telephone company, I assumed I would work there until I retired or was found slumped over dead in my office chair. Life, however, often takes you on paths you never dreamed you’d travel. My husband had a stroke in 2005 and we found ourselves becoming a multi-generational family, moving 160 miles away and in with our younger son, his wife and two grandchildren.

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