Erin:

It's at times like these, that you find out just how strong a human heart is.
Having held the hands of friends and family who struggled through insuperable
illnesses, abiding insurmountable pain, and ultimately having lost far too many
who were to have been my life long companions and friends, I can remember nights
when I knew that pain inside my chest wouldn't allow for even one more breath.

Even so, somehow, I did - breathe I think, simply, it was because I never
once allowed an opportunity to tell them how important they were, or how much I
really loved them to pass in unprofitable silence. Even if I was mad at
something that was said, or done, did I allow the bitterness of the moment to
obscure the reality that I'd like them again by morning.

A few years ago, as my father died after several unforeseeable twists in
a simple treatment that were as painful as they were cruel and improbable, I
found myself alone with him for the last time. I had to leave, because that
just happened to be the month we had lost our house, and I asked him if I could
get him anything at all. He just pointed at me. I was his youngest, we were
always just alike, and very close.

I told him I had to go.

I told him that I was sorry, but that he'd expect me to take care of my
family, and I couldn't do anything else. He nodded that he understood. So, I
told him, that I wanted him to know one thing: that although I was born a
little silly and silly-looking, and even though fate had played me monstrous
disservices that snatched defeat out of the jaws of victory more times than I
could count... there had never been a time when I was so afraid of consequences
that I'd lie to protect myself. Never had there been a time when anyone was
able to push me past a line of moral certainty, even in a job where I made a
hundred decisions regarding legality and safety verses profit, in any given day,
I never once backed down, or took the easy way.

I shocked a few, and I paid a heavy toll more than once, but never once did
I trade what I knew to be the right for expediency. And, I told him that I got
that from him. From that very first time, when he pushed me back across the
parking lot of the A&P to return three cents that he'd been mistakenly given by
the cashier, I was amazed how honest he was, and from that day, I could never
disappoint him by failing in that way.

Times like these, when the sad tidings seem to come more quickly than you can
take the next breath, I think about times like that one with my father, and I
think it was enough.

Kermit the frog said, that life if made up of meetings and partings, for that
is the way of it, and I have found this to be so. I also know that there is no
balm for the loss of a friend, nor word in any language that may assuage the
grief of a loss so overwhelming as a loved one dies; but the memory of the love,
weather in profound moments or simple silly laughter, surely makes that inevitable
parting survivable. I think that love is... enough.

Love and respects,
Sarah Lynn

From the story posted today, I am assuming that the author refereed to is Jaye Michael, where the question comes in is from some of the postings listing Jeffrey M Mahr, as the author in the intro block of two stories (Blond Joke & To Shape One's Life), listed within the author's collected works. I assume that this was an alternative nom de plume.

If this is indeed the case, would you be folding the web site listed for Jeffrey M. Mahr into the proposed Web hosting? or would it be possible to migrate the stories from that site into Big Closet, Fictioneer, Stardust etc?