Frankly, my Angels, Spring is a rough time of year for me. Many years ago my father suffered a fatal heart attack while we were living in London. One of my best friends died in April ten years ago, and my mother had the stroke that killed her on Easter Sunday two years ago. Three formidable, deeply loving people, and death did not come swiftly or easily. That’s how it crumbles cookie-wise. That’s not to make light of the most tragic part of life, but there is something that lives on after death, and that is love.
May it manifest for you in the company of friends and family. Perhaps on a golden day, under a grape arbor, full of the sight of flowers and the sound of happy conversation.