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I’ve been telling my story here in pieces.  And in my way of thinking it is necessary to do it that way.  I know of no other way.  It is a long story and because it is being written piecemeal it is coming out as a very sad, tragic even, tale.

Perhaps, in the classical sense of a hero with a tragic flaw that leads to destruction, it is tragic.  But, in the end, when the rest of the story is told I hope that the moral of the story will show that there IS redemption even in the most desperate and dire of circumstances.  There can be deliverance even when the protagonist falls.  Something is saved.  If nothing else, dear God, let it be Love.

Constant Reader, hold on.  Stick with me.  I hope you will see that even in deepest pitch of night there can shine a light.  What or who that light might be, I am not sure.  The story is still unfolding even to me.  But, even if that light is not a person and is but the redeeming path that I have trod, I know there is light.  There has to be.  I have seen it.  That is my Faith.  That is the Love to which I Aspire.