I saw a story in USA Today on how some victims who lost limbs in the bombings of the Boston Marathon are needing and getting reassurances from experts and counselors that life doesn't end if you lose a limb.

It's true, and I know that well, because I lost a foot and all but six inches of my lower right leg to diabetes ten years ago.

Now I wouldn't recommend this, but I'd been very sick and I felt better almost immediately. Still, there was the matter of the loss of my foot (in shorthand, it's known as a BK amp, for below-knee amputation).

First, I knew I would get a prosthetic leg. So I also knew it was a matter of recovering and biding my time until I healed enough to be fitted with a replacement.

Jack, the prosthetist, was already a friend, so I knew I was in good hands. Two and a half weeks after surgery, I was back at work for six-hour days and before long I was working full days, with my wonderful wife Sharon bringing me to work and picking me up afterward.

It was a great relief to be able to drive again after I got my prosthesis.

I'm not going to say I live my life as though nothing had happened, and too much walking or being on my feet for too long will never be easy. But the point I'm trying to get to is that life didn't end, although It's going to be a lot harder for those who lost both legs, or their arms.

There's really no graceful way to wrap this up, except to say that I hope and pray for those innocent souls who lost limbs, loved ones or their sense of well-being.

We owe it to all of them.