This is a big week, coming off a big (yet sad) weekend.  I attended a funeral for a man I had never met on Saturday morning at 11:00 AM EST.  This man was my dear niece’s father-in-law.  His name was Paul.  He was 85.  He was deaf.  He lived in the same area his entire life.  He worked at Buick for 35 years.  He was married for the first time at age 62, and inherited 3 step children whom he raised as his own.  He had a child at age 64.  His name is Thomas and he looks exactly like Paul did when he was younger.  And I mean exactly.  He was an avid photographer, motorcyclists and writer.  He was always happy.  His kids and grandkids loved him dearly.  The whole community came out for his funeral ~ standing room only in the funeral home.  I cried.  I never met him, yet wished I had.  He did epic stuff.  Epic. Stuff.  In this tiny town, in the middle of nowhere’sville, this man had an epic life.  I wished I had known him.  I would ask him so many questions.  Such as, ‘were you always happy?’; what makes you happy?; why did you stay here when you could have lived anywhere in the world?; becoming a father at age 64…what is that like?; what smells do you remember?; why motorcycles?; why photography?; why does your wife drive a Cadillac instead of a Buick?…..I hope he would tell me how to live a happy life, how to be content with what I have.  How to always be kind.  How to remember that everyday is a new beginning.  I hope I can be like Paul and do Epic Stuff.  Every. Single. Day.