Mr. O, you were an original life bandit. You stole every second there was to steal. There should have been more but, some how they changed the rules late in the game.  Most foul. I am grateful for the time I had with you sitting around the dinning room table listening to a story.  You are the undisputed champion of pausing a story  while a leave your presence only to resume it seamlessly when I return. Bravo maestro. I remember asking you for your daughter's hand in marriage. I remember a grin that took years off your face, you were happy Mr. O. Thank you for your acceptance. You mastered the art of being relevant without trying. I suspect you stood about five feet, maybe three or four the most, I was never able to measure how tall that giant shadow was you cast. I will miss you Mr. O but, it is a far better rest than you have ever had. May flights of angels come to meet you and greet you then fly you home.