Nobody's perfect.
We all make mistakes.
And you should never be made to feel that you're the only one who makes mistakes - and you should never let anyone else feel like they are the only one who makes mistakes.
We live in an imperfect world - and we are all imperfect.
If we were perfect - we wouldn't be here.
We'd be in Heaven.
But one way to get at least a little piece of Heaven on Earth is to learn to let things go.
If someone has recently hurt you forgive them. Immediately.
If you've recently hurt someone, unintentionally or otherwise, manifest that they forgive you.
If they do not, if you have apologized and made every effort to make amends, and still, they do not forgive you, well - then all you can do is bless them on their way.
You can still love people without having them in your life - especially if they are destructive to your life - or self-destructive to theirs.
We're all doing the best we can.
And we can only do what we can do.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Just don't be so hard on yourself - or on anyone else for that matter.
In short, be loving-kind...and be brave enough to share and shine your affection...on others...if mostly yourself...in an unselfish way...to love others...and yourself...unconditionally.
You aren't nearly as "bad" as you think you are or as others may sometimes lead you to believe and vice-versa.
If anything, please do remember this quote from Emerson:
"No man is an island; no one goes their way alone. Whatever we send out into the lives of others, comes right back into your own."
So, send out only good words...good thoughts...good vibes...love...and forgiveness - to others - and for yourself.
Click on the MARY book cover to order your copy for only $19.95 on Amazon
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
You are Beautiful and a Blessing
We each have our creative talents in the world.
Some can sing and dance.
Other can write.
Still others can count or excel in a particular sport.
But each of us - in on our way - make our contribution.
Each of our contributions, no matter how large or small, are important and beautiful.
What each of us does best ultimately contributes not only to those who obviously and directly benefit from our contributions - but all people, consciously or subconsciously, reap the rewards of your good gifts.
We are each part of the entirety of all; we each are a peg or a particle in the matrix of everything that was, is and will be.
Never feel that you are insignificant or that what you do is insignificant - especially if each time you speak, act, create, believe, think or do anything with loving-kindness.
Loving-kindness, or Love - for short, lasts forever.
Everything else, in the long run, falls away.
So, shine your great talent - your great Light...for all to see and bask in your great glow.
And in the process of your graceful glimmering, you become a blessing to the world.
Some can sing and dance.
Other can write.
Still others can count or excel in a particular sport.
But each of us - in on our way - make our contribution.
Each of our contributions, no matter how large or small, are important and beautiful.
What each of us does best ultimately contributes not only to those who obviously and directly benefit from our contributions - but all people, consciously or subconsciously, reap the rewards of your good gifts.
We are each part of the entirety of all; we each are a peg or a particle in the matrix of everything that was, is and will be.
Never feel that you are insignificant or that what you do is insignificant - especially if each time you speak, act, create, believe, think or do anything with loving-kindness.
Loving-kindness, or Love - for short, lasts forever.
Everything else, in the long run, falls away.
So, shine your great talent - your great Light...for all to see and bask in your great glow.
And in the process of your graceful glimmering, you become a blessing to the world.
Speak Your Way To Perfect Health
"I now consecrate my mind and body to you, Dear Father. I am now willing and ready to give up the old ways, the false beliefs that have bound me. I am now ready to take the new higher life from Universal Mind. Dear Father, I know you have forgiven all my mistakes and are seeing in me only my perfect self which is pure. I now see only my pure, perfect self. As it shines its radiant Light into every cell of my body. I am clean and pure, healthy and free. Yes...I am free."
- Page 269, "The Healing Secrets of the Ages," by Catherine Ponder
- Page 269, "The Healing Secrets of the Ages," by Catherine Ponder
"At the center of each atom in your body there is a central light around which lesser lights are constantly circling. At the center of each one of these atoms is life and energy. When you affirm 'LIFE' you stir up and bring into action that tremendous atomic energy in your body. Indeed, when you affirm the word 'LIFE,' you are working with an atomic energy that is all powerful, because you are an atomic being!"
- Page 256, "The Healing Secrets of the Ages" - by Catherine Ponder
"When you are tired, run down, discouraged, that is the time to call upon the mind power of life within you...In each cell and atom of your body is life, substance and intelligence. As you speak words of "life," each cell responds. You can charge the cells of your body with life because they are receptive and always listening. If you dwell upon the idea of life, your body takes up this idea and acts upon it, first consciously and then subconsciously. The idea of life will then work through the cells of your body, generating new energy."
- Page 254, "The Healing Secrets of the Ages" - by Catherine Ponder
The Amazon link for "The Healing Secrets of the Ages":
Thursday, January 16, 2014
The Deception of Arrogance
"Are you arrogant?"
"Do you think you're better than other people?"
For some reason, I get those questions a lot, especially the last one, which pretty much makes me laugh.
"Better than other people?!!"
Please.
I wake up every day trying to make the world a better PLACE, if that's what they mean.
And no way do I always succeed, but dang - I sure enough do try.
That said, usually, the people who think I'm arrogant (or think that I think I'm better than others) have their own insecurities.
It's like years ago, when I was an NBC page.
Now, granted, I might have been perceived as a cocky son-of-a-gun in those days. But I was 23-years-old, and I thought I had the world by the "you-know-whats." And who isn't perceived as cocky when they're 23 (my heavens, especially today!).
But in general a few of my supervisors at NBC thought I was just plain-out cocky, as did a few of my peers.
That is, until one day, when a reporter from The Los Angeles Times arrived to do a story on NBC Pages. I used to sing and dance as the "pre-warm-up guy" for the audiences of The Tonight Show (with Carson), Wheel of Fortune, etc. And the L.A. Times reporter took note of that, and made me the center of his article.
In a few days, the article was published and, as it turned out, I was the only positive voice in the piece. Everyone else complained about their job - but I talked about how great it was being an NBC Page.
And boy oh boy did everyone's attitude change.
My supervisors were like, "Man, Herb - that's great!" "You're cool!" "You're the best!"
And my favorite was: "You've CHANGED!"
And I was really startled.
I was like, "Uh?....Dude - I haven't changed. YOUR PERCEPTION of me has changed. I've always been a good person."
In recent years, I've been blessed with great success in many endeavors. And I've been proud of it. But what some might call "boastful," I call "sharing." Dang straight, I'm tickled to no end about all the good things that have happened to me....and my columns, blogs, books, parties, etc. is my way of sharing that joy with others...not boasting about it.
Also, I share my life and thoughts with others because I think it's just plain fun to do so, and hopefully, some people get a little inspired in the process.
But I don't have blogs and books and big ideas because I boast...or because I'm arrogant....and definitely not because I think I'm better than other people.
Whatever "cocky" days I've experienced are long behind me (even though, again, in my view, my "cockiness" was really only misperceived by the insecure)!
I think the best way to make my point is this:
Nobody loves money and nice things more than I.
But do I think that having money and nice things makes me better than other people?
No.
Do I think that because I'm a writer, an actor, a producer and kind of a cute guy that all of THAT makes me better than other people.
NO.
We all have our talents. I can sing, dance, act, write, direct, inspire, tell a good joke, be a good listener, and on and on.
But, at the same time, I can't count and I can't play basketball...which really are only two of the COUNTLESS things that I am NOT capable of doing.
But like the rest of us, I just do the best I can with what I have and try to be happy - and then go on to share my talents with anyone who wants to embrace and share my joy.
Nothing more...nothing less.
The real bottom line is this:
I'm a lover of many great and good spiritual beliefs, from every walk of life, culture and heritage.
As long as Love or Loving-Kindness is involved with a good religion or spiritual belief, I'm there.
For example, Pastor Joel Olsteen of Lakewood Church is one of my favorites from the Christian sector.
On page 88 of one of his recent books, I Declare (a genius publication), he offers this beautiful affirmation:
"I declare that I will live as a healer. I am sensitive to the needs of those around me. I will lift the fallen, restore the broken, and encourage the discouraged. I am full of compassion and kindness. I won't just look for a miracle; I will become someone's miracle by showing God's love and mercy everywhere I go. This is my declaration."
And THAT is about as "arrogant" as I get or strive to be!
"Do you think you're better than other people?"
For some reason, I get those questions a lot, especially the last one, which pretty much makes me laugh.
"Better than other people?!!"
Please.
I wake up every day trying to make the world a better PLACE, if that's what they mean.
And no way do I always succeed, but dang - I sure enough do try.
That said, usually, the people who think I'm arrogant (or think that I think I'm better than others) have their own insecurities.
It's like years ago, when I was an NBC page.
Now, granted, I might have been perceived as a cocky son-of-a-gun in those days. But I was 23-years-old, and I thought I had the world by the "you-know-whats." And who isn't perceived as cocky when they're 23 (my heavens, especially today!).
But in general a few of my supervisors at NBC thought I was just plain-out cocky, as did a few of my peers.
That is, until one day, when a reporter from The Los Angeles Times arrived to do a story on NBC Pages. I used to sing and dance as the "pre-warm-up guy" for the audiences of The Tonight Show (with Carson), Wheel of Fortune, etc. And the L.A. Times reporter took note of that, and made me the center of his article.
In a few days, the article was published and, as it turned out, I was the only positive voice in the piece. Everyone else complained about their job - but I talked about how great it was being an NBC Page.
And boy oh boy did everyone's attitude change.
My supervisors were like, "Man, Herb - that's great!" "You're cool!" "You're the best!"
And my favorite was: "You've CHANGED!"
And I was really startled.
I was like, "Uh?....Dude - I haven't changed. YOUR PERCEPTION of me has changed. I've always been a good person."
In recent years, I've been blessed with great success in many endeavors. And I've been proud of it. But what some might call "boastful," I call "sharing." Dang straight, I'm tickled to no end about all the good things that have happened to me....and my columns, blogs, books, parties, etc. is my way of sharing that joy with others...not boasting about it.
Also, I share my life and thoughts with others because I think it's just plain fun to do so, and hopefully, some people get a little inspired in the process.
But I don't have blogs and books and big ideas because I boast...or because I'm arrogant....and definitely not because I think I'm better than other people.
Whatever "cocky" days I've experienced are long behind me (even though, again, in my view, my "cockiness" was really only misperceived by the insecure)!
I think the best way to make my point is this:
Nobody loves money and nice things more than I.
But do I think that having money and nice things makes me better than other people?
No.
Do I think that because I'm a writer, an actor, a producer and kind of a cute guy that all of THAT makes me better than other people.
NO.
We all have our talents. I can sing, dance, act, write, direct, inspire, tell a good joke, be a good listener, and on and on.
But, at the same time, I can't count and I can't play basketball...which really are only two of the COUNTLESS things that I am NOT capable of doing.
But like the rest of us, I just do the best I can with what I have and try to be happy - and then go on to share my talents with anyone who wants to embrace and share my joy.
Nothing more...nothing less.
The real bottom line is this:
I'm a lover of many great and good spiritual beliefs, from every walk of life, culture and heritage.
As long as Love or Loving-Kindness is involved with a good religion or spiritual belief, I'm there.
For example, Pastor Joel Olsteen of Lakewood Church is one of my favorites from the Christian sector.
On page 88 of one of his recent books, I Declare (a genius publication), he offers this beautiful affirmation:
"I declare that I will live as a healer. I am sensitive to the needs of those around me. I will lift the fallen, restore the broken, and encourage the discouraged. I am full of compassion and kindness. I won't just look for a miracle; I will become someone's miracle by showing God's love and mercy everywhere I go. This is my declaration."
And THAT is about as "arrogant" as I get or strive to be!
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
"Never say, Good-bye. Say, 'See ya' later."
Did you know that a part of you is part of me - and vice-versa?
It's true.
And I never realized more then as when, in 2003, my cousin Rita passed away (into Heaven).
She died very young (43).
She was "there" and then she wasn't.
I thought, "So, where'd she go?"
How does someone, who has so much life, just one day, not be "there."
You hear their voice. They sound strong. They look strong. They act strong.
There's no illness...or preparation for illness or any lingering death.
Just one day, that person...that you spoke with, interacted with, kissed, touched, loved...yelled at, cried with...the day before...was now gone.
Doesn't seem to make any sense, certainly not from any logical point of view.
But one thing I know for sure: when I think of Rita...or anyone else who I have loved and who is no longer visible in this world...when I think of them...when a thought of them comes into my mind or into my heart...to me, that's them saying "Hello!"
That's me, hearing "Hello!"
And my acknowledgement of their "Hello" is returned with my "Hello!"
It's a good way to see things...to hear things...to live.
To know that when those we love leave this world...our memories of them become everything they already were when they were alive.
And that says that life is endless...that there is no death...as long as we continue to "remember" those we love and say "Hello."
Or as my beautiful, dear Mom used to remind everyone, "Never say, 'Good-bye. Say, 'See 'ya' later."
It's true.
And I never realized more then as when, in 2003, my cousin Rita passed away (into Heaven).
She died very young (43).
She was "there" and then she wasn't.
I thought, "So, where'd she go?"
How does someone, who has so much life, just one day, not be "there."
You hear their voice. They sound strong. They look strong. They act strong.
There's no illness...or preparation for illness or any lingering death.
Just one day, that person...that you spoke with, interacted with, kissed, touched, loved...yelled at, cried with...the day before...was now gone.
Doesn't seem to make any sense, certainly not from any logical point of view.
But one thing I know for sure: when I think of Rita...or anyone else who I have loved and who is no longer visible in this world...when I think of them...when a thought of them comes into my mind or into my heart...to me, that's them saying "Hello!"
That's me, hearing "Hello!"
And my acknowledgement of their "Hello" is returned with my "Hello!"
It's a good way to see things...to hear things...to live.
To know that when those we love leave this world...our memories of them become everything they already were when they were alive.
And that says that life is endless...that there is no death...as long as we continue to "remember" those we love and say "Hello."
Or as my beautiful, dear Mom used to remind everyone, "Never say, 'Good-bye. Say, 'See 'ya' later."
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
One of My Favorite Christmas Eves
I have been blessed with many happy Christmas Eves over the years, most of which transpired in my hometown of Rochester, New York, while I was growing up, either on Erie Street or in Greenleaf Meadows.
But one recent Christmas Eve, at least of the last decade, occurred in 2005.
In the late spring of 2005, I had moved back to Rochester after helping to produce Bravo's hit five-part series, The 100 Greatest TV Characters, and after consulting a little bit with Nora Ephron on her Bewitched feature film, among other freelance and contracted assignments.
It was a solid few years in L.A. but, as it had before (and sometimes still does), Rochester was calling me home, mostly, of course, to care for my Mom. Even though my sister lived close by, and there were many good friends who were keeping a close-watch on Mom, I still felt the pull to return. I knew that she did not have that many more years left (she died in 2008); and it was the experience of those like Christmas Eve of 2005 that confirmed that I done the right thing by succumbing to those tugs of my heart.
Then, like today, I had found myself in a new home at Christmas-time. While I've only been in my beautiful new apartment here in Burbank for a mere month or so, by Christmas 2005, I had been living in my new apartment in Rochester (specifically, Irondequoit, a suburb) since that prior January.
So, I wanted to do something special that Christmas. Usually, my Mom (and Dad, when he was alive) would go to my sister's for Christmas Eve. But I wanted to make my own Christmas dinner in 2005 where I lived. It was a beautiful apartment complex in Irondequoit. The area was winding down, and had certainly seen better days...but again...I felt a "calling."
There seemed to be an awful lot of lonely people that I knew that year, and I thought, "I should invite them all over for Christmas Eve dinner."
So, I did.
There was the fiftysomething woman in a wheelchair who lived up the hall from me. She had married a multi-millionaire, who divorced her. She ended up with approximately $750,000 as a settlement which, compared to what her husband was worth, was really not a large sum of money. But then again, it wasn't anything to sneeze at. Sad thing is, by the time this woman had moved up the hall from me, she had pilfered away that 750 grand on some poorly-made choices. Around the same time, she slipped on the ice in the front of her former home, and ultimately was left incapacitated in several physical, emotional, psychological and financial ways.
There was the sixtysomething woman who lived two buildings down; she had just lost her grown daughter to cancer in June of that year, and it would have been the first Christmas without her precious child.
There was the eigthysomething man friend of my Mom; his brother-in-law had raked him for every penny he had; and he was now living in a senior facility up the block.
There was the elderly-couple that lived across the hall from me; he had the early on-set of Alzheimer's and she was too frail to drive across town to spend Christmas Eve with their daughter and her family.
There was the twentysomething former acting student of mine and his mother. His father and her husband had verbally, physically and financially abused them both in recent years; and they usually just spent Christmas Eve alone.
There was a dear friend of mine who had moved to the area from Manhattan. She had just started working at Kodak, and had not yet acclimated herself to Rochester, and had no plans for Christmas Eve.
Too many sad stories that needed, if not a happy ending, at least maybe just one happy night, with the potential for a new beginning.
So, I invited each of them over for Christmas Eve to join me and my Mom, after I called my sister and told her my plan.
I didn't make any super kind of special Christmas dinner. I bought some frozen raviolis at Wegman's Supermarket (the Rochester-turned-national franchise for which Alex Baldwin briefly served). As a sauce, I chose the Prego brand, and mixed some of my own secret ingredients into that. I bought some green peas, some French bread; added some garlic and butter to the bread; tossed a salad; and got some wine, soda and water. For desert, a few of Wegman's awesome cakes: Lemon, Chocolate, Apple Cinnamon
Again, nothing elaborate, but in the end, very satisfying.
Everyone loved it.
But more than the meal they loved just the company.
It was a Christmas-card-picture-perfect vision of soft-fallen snow on the outside.
We sang Christmas carols on the inside, and I passed out some gifts.
But there were no diamond watches, no cashmere sweaters, no cards with cash.
That afternoon I had gone to the Dollar Store and bought everyone one elegant Christmas ornament; and when I handed them out, you would have thought each of them received a divorce settlement for $750 grand.
Their hearts warmed, as all of our eyes lit-up and teared.
Christmas Eve had meant something again...to each of us.
The sadness had melted away and was replaced with a few moments of joy that lingered onto Christmas Day and longer.
For a few of them, the woman in the wheelchair, the woman who lost her daughter, and the elderly man friend of my Mom's...it was their last Christmas.
But hopefully...it was also one of their best and favorite.
I know it was one of mine.
But one recent Christmas Eve, at least of the last decade, occurred in 2005.
In the late spring of 2005, I had moved back to Rochester after helping to produce Bravo's hit five-part series, The 100 Greatest TV Characters, and after consulting a little bit with Nora Ephron on her Bewitched feature film, among other freelance and contracted assignments.
It was a solid few years in L.A. but, as it had before (and sometimes still does), Rochester was calling me home, mostly, of course, to care for my Mom. Even though my sister lived close by, and there were many good friends who were keeping a close-watch on Mom, I still felt the pull to return. I knew that she did not have that many more years left (she died in 2008); and it was the experience of those like Christmas Eve of 2005 that confirmed that I done the right thing by succumbing to those tugs of my heart.
Then, like today, I had found myself in a new home at Christmas-time. While I've only been in my beautiful new apartment here in Burbank for a mere month or so, by Christmas 2005, I had been living in my new apartment in Rochester (specifically, Irondequoit, a suburb) since that prior January.
So, I wanted to do something special that Christmas. Usually, my Mom (and Dad, when he was alive) would go to my sister's for Christmas Eve. But I wanted to make my own Christmas dinner in 2005 where I lived. It was a beautiful apartment complex in Irondequoit. The area was winding down, and had certainly seen better days...but again...I felt a "calling."
There seemed to be an awful lot of lonely people that I knew that year, and I thought, "I should invite them all over for Christmas Eve dinner."
So, I did.
There was the fiftysomething woman in a wheelchair who lived up the hall from me. She had married a multi-millionaire, who divorced her. She ended up with approximately $750,000 as a settlement which, compared to what her husband was worth, was really not a large sum of money. But then again, it wasn't anything to sneeze at. Sad thing is, by the time this woman had moved up the hall from me, she had pilfered away that 750 grand on some poorly-made choices. Around the same time, she slipped on the ice in the front of her former home, and ultimately was left incapacitated in several physical, emotional, psychological and financial ways.
There was the sixtysomething woman who lived two buildings down; she had just lost her grown daughter to cancer in June of that year, and it would have been the first Christmas without her precious child.
There was the eigthysomething man friend of my Mom; his brother-in-law had raked him for every penny he had; and he was now living in a senior facility up the block.
There was the elderly-couple that lived across the hall from me; he had the early on-set of Alzheimer's and she was too frail to drive across town to spend Christmas Eve with their daughter and her family.
There was the twentysomething former acting student of mine and his mother. His father and her husband had verbally, physically and financially abused them both in recent years; and they usually just spent Christmas Eve alone.
There was a dear friend of mine who had moved to the area from Manhattan. She had just started working at Kodak, and had not yet acclimated herself to Rochester, and had no plans for Christmas Eve.
Too many sad stories that needed, if not a happy ending, at least maybe just one happy night, with the potential for a new beginning.
So, I invited each of them over for Christmas Eve to join me and my Mom, after I called my sister and told her my plan.
I didn't make any super kind of special Christmas dinner. I bought some frozen raviolis at Wegman's Supermarket (the Rochester-turned-national franchise for which Alex Baldwin briefly served). As a sauce, I chose the Prego brand, and mixed some of my own secret ingredients into that. I bought some green peas, some French bread; added some garlic and butter to the bread; tossed a salad; and got some wine, soda and water. For desert, a few of Wegman's awesome cakes: Lemon, Chocolate, Apple Cinnamon
Again, nothing elaborate, but in the end, very satisfying.
Everyone loved it.
But more than the meal they loved just the company.
It was a Christmas-card-picture-perfect vision of soft-fallen snow on the outside.
We sang Christmas carols on the inside, and I passed out some gifts.
But there were no diamond watches, no cashmere sweaters, no cards with cash.
That afternoon I had gone to the Dollar Store and bought everyone one elegant Christmas ornament; and when I handed them out, you would have thought each of them received a divorce settlement for $750 grand.
Their hearts warmed, as all of our eyes lit-up and teared.
Christmas Eve had meant something again...to each of us.
The sadness had melted away and was replaced with a few moments of joy that lingered onto Christmas Day and longer.
For a few of them, the woman in the wheelchair, the woman who lost her daughter, and the elderly man friend of my Mom's...it was their last Christmas.
But hopefully...it was also one of their best and favorite.
I know it was one of mine.
Friday, December 6, 2013
You, Us..."Hey!" - BONDS!
There are the James Bonds....the fictional super-spy that all of us at some point fantasize about being.
There are the bonds that dentists place on our teeth.
There are the blue-collar bonds that various trades utilize with regard to plumbers, construction workers, etc.
There are the U.S. Savings Bonds with which we were all raised.
Then there are the bonds between a different kind of "us," as in you, me, and we - the people...of the United States...the world...the universe..
The bonds between countries...nations....states...providences...cities and...towns...communities...cultures...employers...employees
friends...families...mothers...fathers...sisters...brothers...husbands...wives...
children...cousins...in-laws and more.
In recent years, I've been hosting reunions for my friends and colleagues from NBC, harkening back to our special days as NBC Pages.
Paging was a bonding experience if there ever was one. We were young...just out of college...each of us trying to find our way...and we ended up finding each other.
Those days are gone...and we all know it...but we gather together again...every once and a while...in friendship and nostalgia...to honor our original bonds...if maybe making new ones along the way.
We hold on to the past, and yet at the same time, let it go...and create new memories in the present, ever looking toward the future.
When I was caring for my Mom and Dad in their elder years, we shared a new bonding beyond the parent-child ties. As their primary caregiver, they became my closest friends...if not best friends...and in many ways my adopted children.
Either way, those bonds will always remain unbroken.
And like all noble bonds...they will remain unbroken...forever.
Because they are unbreakable.
Not even by someone like James Bond.
There are the bonds that dentists place on our teeth.
There are the blue-collar bonds that various trades utilize with regard to plumbers, construction workers, etc.
There are the U.S. Savings Bonds with which we were all raised.
Then there are the bonds between a different kind of "us," as in you, me, and we - the people...of the United States...the world...the universe..
The bonds between countries...nations....states...providences...cities and...towns...communities...cultures...employers...employees
friends...families...mothers...fathers...sisters...brothers...husbands...wives...
children...cousins...in-laws and more.
In recent years, I've been hosting reunions for my friends and colleagues from NBC, harkening back to our special days as NBC Pages.
Paging was a bonding experience if there ever was one. We were young...just out of college...each of us trying to find our way...and we ended up finding each other.
Those days are gone...and we all know it...but we gather together again...every once and a while...in friendship and nostalgia...to honor our original bonds...if maybe making new ones along the way.
We hold on to the past, and yet at the same time, let it go...and create new memories in the present, ever looking toward the future.
When I was caring for my Mom and Dad in their elder years, we shared a new bonding beyond the parent-child ties. As their primary caregiver, they became my closest friends...if not best friends...and in many ways my adopted children.
Either way, those bonds will always remain unbroken.
And like all noble bonds...they will remain unbroken...forever.
Because they are unbreakable.
Not even by someone like James Bond.
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