Friday, August 6, 2010


Thirty-nine weeks after she died, we
went to the Hospice that cared for my Mom
for the last week of her life.
We went to release butterflies, to
think of her, to remember her,
to help the Hospice that helped her.
It was a beautiful time.
An amazing thing to see all of the butterflies,
to see all of the other people who have lost
loved ones. To see all of the people
and families that Hospice has touched.
During the ceremony, there was a group reading
that talked about living life, because in
living your life, your loved one lives on.
My Mom's memory lives on in each of us.
It lives on through the stories we tell.
It lives on through the laughter we share.
Her memory lives on in each and every moment
that we spend together.
"A butterfly counts not months but moments, and has
time enough."
-Rabindranath Tagore


Blogger Toni Tralala said...

The music made me cry and I relate to your post. I lost my father when I was 10 and having people to grieve with you is always comforting.

I hope that you'll get past this rough patch in your own time. My deepest condolences.

August 18, 2010 at 10:53 PM  

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