I read this book yesterday called Missing May. It is about a little girl and her uncle that are grieving the death of her dear aunt. At one point in the book she is speaking of her dead aunt and said, "May always liked the weird ones best, the ones you couldn't peg right off. She must be loving it up in heaven, where I figure everybody must just let loose. That’s got to be at least one of the benefits of heaven – never having to act normal again."
I figured this should give all of us choplettes a little hope and a little peace in our souls.
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