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A man I had met a few times and spoken with on the property passed away yesterday. He was in his early thirties and had been in an automobile accident just a few hours earlier. He refused medical attention, drove home, lay down on his bed, and quietly made his final journey alone.

Last night, when I learned of what had happened, I thought of a story by Robert Frost titled The Death of the Hired Man. That short story has resurfaced throughout my life ever since I first read it as a teenager. One line has always stood out more than any other:

"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in."

I hope all of my friends know that I try to make my home that kind of place. If you ever need to come here, you'll find a safe place to rest, recover, and find comfort after a long and tiring road.

This is simply a reminder to love one another. Let the people you care about know that you love them. Cherish every moment, because none of us knows when our last one will come.