and look among all the pita and what not for the keys, I opened the bag to let Diego out -- and there they were. They had fallen in when I had placed him in the bag. Lucky me. I lost my father in 1970 when he was 48 and I was 20. I don't think I've ever recovered from that loss. He lost his life much too young. I lost my sister when she was 48, the same age as my father 30 years before. Losses like that scare me. Losing a friend to cancer scares me. But we can't live in fear of these losses, can we? The important thing is to not get upset over the small losses.