Living Is Dying, Or Is It The Other Way Around? | Healthy Aging Series: Part 5
The first dead person I saw was my Grandpa Pat. I was thirteen-years old. He was sixty-nine. We walked past his open casket after the Pentecostal minister preached about heaven and hellfire. He had heard it a thousand times before, mostly from Grandma. Grandpa was unmoved. As I grew older, I learned that old people…










