They were both active, and alive, and vital. I had never been in the location where we three met. It was high in a building, with a large balcony, and...a view of the Pacific, with La Jolla a few blocks away. Stan and Hank were telling me that even though their lives were over, mine was not. Hank told me I had a lot of living yet to do. Stan had said the same thing 45 years before, the first time we thought he was going to die. They talked to me until the telephone rang. I excused myself, went to. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of vehicle traffic, hushed and oddly quiet. He realized it must have been snowing, which always quieted traffic noise.He looked around the room, taking inventory of his earthly belongings. Because he had always lived alone, he had never needed much. Now in his middle age, he felt a vagrant wistfulness about the things he’d never owned, the places he’d never gone, the people he’d never known, and the things he’d never done.The dream had left him shaken,. More

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