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Writing the date on the page reminds me of how as a writer I've been blessed with a path that's put me in a story everyday. Just don't ask me what I've written about. It sounds like my mother, "I don't remember son." I have an idea but to be exact is an impossibility. In all our lives lessons have been learned, ideas have been hatched and we've had mindless amounts of chatter. Many years of conversation and writing. And I ask, "About what?"