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It’s November 1st, All Saints’ Day and the anniversary of my mother’s funeral.  I originally wrote this about three weeks after the fact, and every year on this day I like to repost it, both to honor her memory, and because something happened that day that was truly, genuinely magical.  At least for me it was:

There’s much in this world that’s savage and horrifying, that will break your heart and confound your understanding and shake your faith in the justice and beauty and rightness of things. But there is also magic and wonder and days when the sun bursts through the clouds and suddenly the grey is silver and the silver becomes gold as the gathered clouds are scattered and flee beyond the horizon. Days when levity overcomes gravity’s ineluctable pull and loads are lightened for reasons the conscious mind isn’t really equipped to understand or make sense of.

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About Dallas Taylor

Dallas Taylor is the grandson of a rum-runner, a valedictorian, a handyman and a good Catholic girl. He lives and writes in Seattle, and builds things for a living in his spare time. In 2010, he attended the Clarion Writers’ Workshop.

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