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Yesterday, I unexpectedly walked up on a zombie. Well, not an actual, no-blood-coursing-through-the-veins or hungry-to-snack-on-my-insides variety, but a zombie all the same.

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Last week, I watched a potted lily jump from a store shelf and onto the concrete floor below in hopes of discouraging my wife from putting the plant in the back of the car.

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Last week, I found myself standing in a room filled mostly with strangers. Considering the event was a wake service for a friend, you would say he built a remarkable off-the-balance-sheet inventory of deep and powerful love. To him, touching lives was his currency — and my late friend built …