Monday, September 14, 2015


This story did not make a complete circle till I related the first part to John's sister Sally Kelley.
I did not remember doing this at all, but I guess that in my grief, on the night he died, I went outside and picked a last little sprig of Bleeding Heart, and put it in John's hand.

About a year after John died, I had put the left over ashes from Sally's reserve into the sand at Provincetown.

I had sealed one of John's little boxes with a small amount of ashes and we buried them in the family burial plot.

So there was a tiny bit of ash left over, when I visited my sister in Maine.  We put it into her garden at the base of her Bleeding Heart plant.

Today was OK for me, but I kept myself very busy so far.  A little Italian beef stew, still to get the potatoes, and working on the tiny house in the yard to keep occupied  It worked.

Then I returned a call from my sister.  She did not remember that it was our second anniversary today.  She just related what was going on today.  She said that her Bleeding Heart plant was doing its normal thing.  This time of year they turn yellow, and slowly die down to the ground till next year.  She said that as this one yellowed, every branch had sprouted a tiny Bleeding Heart plant between the divisions in the branches.  And on each one were tiny Bleeding Heart blossoms.  Something neither of us had ever heard of before.

Thanks John...Happy Anniversary to you too. 

Monday, July 13, 2015

I Do

"Death is just another path, one that we all must take." — J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Friday, June 19, 2015

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.

All is well.

Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!