Life and Loss

Susan's 92-year-old father died on Friday. He lived 3,000 miles away, and she had just seen him a few weeks ago. There are no plans for a funeral. I know, from experience, that this sort of private grief feels rather lonely.

I called the florist who was in a flurry with all her Christmas orders. Since i live in a small town, we know each other. "I can't promise delivery until the day after Christmas," she said.

"Maybe a plant," i said, thinking out loud. (I usually order cut flowers.)

"Oh, i have a white cyclamen," said Alva Jean, the florist. "Under the circumstances, i think it should go out today."

Susan emailed me 2 hours later, "These beautiful flowers will make my father's presence physical during the holiday festivities."

Loss and love and life happening at the same time, braiding through our holidays.

Photo from alpinegardensociety.net