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Comment by Jackie Paulson on May 30, 2011 at 11:53am
Life is meant to be shared, thanks for sharing your story.  Loved it.
Comment by Dr Robert E McGinnis on July 29, 2009 at 8:34pm
Is this one of those places where people write romance books? In my series the special couple don't even hold hands until the third book. It is her custom not to talk to men and his to talk to everyone he sees, nice couple, right.

The following is a true love story, and which I am about to tell:: As a youngster between the ages of six and about nine or ten, I dreamed over and over about a wonderful, beautiful oriental girl coming down the ramp of a pure white boat. Often she was dressed all in white, but occasionally, she wore either a blue top or a blue skirt and always white shoes. My wife wasn't born yet when I had those dreams, as a matter of fact, she wasn't born until I had graduated high school, gotten married to someone else, and went off to college. But, fate doesn't avoid complications and stepped right up to the task of moving my first wife of nineteen years over to make room for destiny. However, I didn't know what destiny had in mind and made myself a promise that I would never date an American woman and pretty much certain that I would never marry again. After thirteen years of happy, go lucky, cruises, casinos, lots of work of course and motor cycle riding, I chanced upon a refugee house in which lived fourteen or fifteen little refugees from Vietnam. The moment I saw the group sitting around a large table in their modest two bedroom house, the girl that I had dreamed about for so many youthful years looked up and that was all it took. She is as wonderful as my dreams, and even more beautiful than I imagined. In over twenty-five years she has never spoken a harsh word and never lets a morning or evening go by that she doesn't grab me and tell me how much she loves me. It shows on her face. That's the first part of this story, the second part is that after we had been married for many years, she confided in me that a fortune teller in Vietnam told her that she would move to a big, new country, met a man who wrote books and lived in a two story house. They all laughed at thatnonsense, but hey, here she is.

Each life, is better than a book, but much of it will never be shared and some too personal to tell, but if the truth were known, no book, no story, no record will ever compete with a real life such as I have had. And continue to have until my string breaks.
Comment by Dr Robert E McGinnis on July 29, 2009 at 8:13pm
It is very nice and cozy here, so I think I will set a spell. Coffee, you say, OK, I take mine black and hot. Life hangs on a string, some times the wind blows it one way and then the other. When you are born, your string is very short and usually pretty strong, but as you get older, the string that holds your life, gets longer and longer, but it also get weaker too, none of us are to know when our sting will break, but I say, let it swing, let it swing.

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