When my husband died, the most important thing anyone did for me was hold me and just let me cry. No platitudes. No attempts to sooth me. No attempts ...o get me to stop crying. Just holding me. Both sitting up, and letting me cry myself to sleep at night. Not a word was uttered. And I probably cried for a good twenty hours, total.”“Steve?” Michelle asked.Bethany smiled, “Yes. How did you know?”“Because under that karate physique is a sensitive caring guy.”“The same is true for the lug sitting. One day, the ideas developed at night become the subject of debate during the day. The thinker shares the teacher’s burden for the future on their shoulders. Only a handful of these heroes and heroines shall be remembered.Utopia may not exist, but it is a goal worth trying to achieve. Without the teacher or the thinker, Utopia can’t even survive as a dream. The naked man sitting next to a fire cooking food for the first time could be our grandchild rather than our grandsire. Consider this, the. More

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