I’ll miss you, Jack.

When I was a kid, I went to church and people tried to impress me with how long eternity is. It’s a long time. They asked me to imagine a ball of steel the size of Earth, and a fly walking around its circumference. They asked me to imagine that fly walking around and around until it wore the ball in half. Then, they told me: that’s just the beginning of eternity.

Which is how long Jesus claims we live. Backwards and forwards, I guess. It’s remarkable how some people believe, this incomprehensibly vast life of ours is defined and determined by an instant spent wandering here. If he’s talking about any kind of life I recognize, then these few physical decades must be just another thing we happen to do. When Jack finally ‘ruined his reputation’ by dying the other day, my guess is he kept right on working out.

I loved Jack because he was so enthusiastic and strong, and he was what he was just because he decided to be. He said, “you must be psycho if you don’t have fifteen minutes a day to exercise.” And he claimed he didn’t like it that much, himself. He liked living, and being strong and enthusiastic, and he found out anyone could, just by exercising to exhaustion. Then he proved it by doing it. He was the real heroic stuff. Thanks for the time, Jack. See you forever.

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