““One day, almost two years after Keith died, I was on my way down our long driveway toward the mailbox when, in a towering pine tree, there was a sudden crashing of needles and limbs. I stopped walking just in time to avoid being struck by the body of a rabbit and looked up to see the huge wingspan of an eagle as it flew away. I stared at the rabbit for a long moment and was grateful it was dead. If it had been still suffering, I wouldn’t have known what to do to help it. I felt for the first time an acceptance that death could be the right thing, a cure for pain and affliction.””
