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"You don’t doubt him? You don’t hate him?"
                        "No. I thank Him for giving me a purpose."

Faith was the curious centerpiece for me here,  in the form of an effervescent and infectiously positive young singer and activist. Owing most of his success and good spirit to his family, AAA (for all the times his symptoms made him a comically dangerous driver) and God, Paul is unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I gawk at his optimism and how he considers the myriad things that he’s gone through- gastric bypass surgery, misdiagnoses- and how he simply says they just make him ‘more interesting’. I began considering that maybe God is looking out for this guy. I mean, if you almost drive off the Cross Island because MS fatigue made you doze off in the fast lane, it’s conceivable there’s a cosmic hand somewhere. I saw him on a billboard for MS advocacy last year. Of course I did.

Those lucky moments outshadow any grief or self pity he feels.  His certainty echoed on the belly of the bridge we hid from the rain under. Paul, myself and his fabulous aunt Michelle spent two hours laughing and posing under there. Paul stays with you. I came home, pondered if my atheism was partly anger, fear, an actual belief I didn’t want to deal with. Maybe there is a vessel amongst us. Maybe they might be picking up the slack of forgiveness, acceptance, and faith for those of us who still don’t get it.

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