My friend sent me a photo of her mother as a young woman. She died 40 years ago. I am touched when people remember the dead. I often do it myself. It seems the essence of right speech to keep memories alive. And seeing the photo had me imagining her hopes and dreams and how her four daughters have fared after her death. They've all had families and children and led interesting lives. She must have done quite a bit right because they are good people. It's sad she couldn't live longer to see their life choices and her grandchildren and great grandchildren. But my guess is she was fierce woman in the best sense of the word, and she endowed her daughters with a jest for life and a passion for family. They fight and argue but they are there for each other every step of the way. I envy that.
So the ripples move outward from a daughter's memory of her mother, honoring her and her birth and death. This gesture is lovely, and I'm basking in the tenderness.
No comments:
Post a Comment