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It was one of my favorite songs growing up, blasted at parties, an anthem made to be screamed rather than sang, preferably jumping up and down, right fist pumping in the air. I don't think I understood then the subtleties of the lyrics.   One day, in a twisted chain of events the party stopped and  I would get to associate this song with the death of a friend. I was still a teenager and up to that point, people I knew who died were very few, very old, and often very sick. After that, I was left with forever unanswered questions and the shuttered feeling that I was not invincible anymore.  It seemed a small thing, but I stopped listening to it, the song about "living on a prayer''.

It was no surprise that many years after, and many miles away from my home country, I changed the channel when it came on the radio.  I was driving on a highway in New Mexico to check out another item from my bucket list and the gesture was so mechanical, I did not even think about it, payi…

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