Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.

Edmond & Jules deGoncourt

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Obituaries Deceased Date
Gary K. Robertson Sun November 24, 2019
Maryanne (Gulakowski) Waterman Wed November 06, 2019
Martin J Betz Sun November 03, 2019