My grandmother passed away this week, but with all the sadness came fresh eyes for the beauty around me. The day after the funeral, there was a misty fog that descended around the lake house my parents live on. It was like soft beauty come into focus…
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All the various members of the family remarked at how my grandmother had no enemies and loved everyone equally. She kept secrets locked in that vault of hers that will now stay with her forever. She was so open, and yet, her strength was still so mysterious to me….how she came by it so easily to be able to survive anything, even 98 years here on earth, through so many painful experiences. I suppose I’ll always wonder.
24/09/2009 at 10:26 am Permalink
Mildute:
Labai grazu. Mociute mate ir grazejosii tavo jautrumu ir talentu.