One Final Puff Of Air

This is a blog I began several years ago and never finished. Today, All Souls Day - a day of remembrance for the departed - seems an appropriate time to add to it and post. 

I was standing where loved ones lay buried. Diagonally across the square mile I could see the top of the old pine on what was the west side of our garden. Sixty-four years ago I climbed it almost to the top. (I'm just a spot an inch or so from the top of the photo.) Now it is one of the last vestiges of the farm where I grew up - and where so many of my memories lie.

It took a long time for me to realize that there is no such thing as a true event. The people, date, time and location may be the same, but the stories about what took place all differ depending upon indivdual perspectives. What things we do all remember we often remember differently. Or something I remember may not at all be remembered by my brothers, just as they remember some things I don't.

In addition to the loved ones I was thinking about when I originally started this post, another of the people I am remembering today was my friend and classmate Donna. Today would have been her 81st birthday. 

Usually by this date we've had freezing temperatures. The flowers are done, the pots are put away.

But this year, they are all still blooming, even the tender Impatiens, even though we have had at least one official low of 32°. 

"The dead are never far from us. They're in our hearts and on our minds and in the end all that separates us from them is a single breath, one final puff of air." (Ordinary Grace William Kent Krueger.