Sunday afternoon, our local hospice held its annual memorial garden planting ceremony. People were invited to plant flowers in the hospice garden in memory of a dearly departed one.
The service began at 4:00 with a forecast of rain. The rain date was Tuesday, but the forecast was for 3 days of rain, so better to take our chances with Sunday afternoon. As luck would have it, the overcast sky sprinkled but did not pour.
Late Sunday night, a heavy downpour woke me up, and i smiled to think of all those flowers being "rained into" the garden. The rain both watered them and tamped down the earth around them.
We grieve when we think of the friends and relatives who are no longer living. Teardrops fall out of our eyes and run down our cheeks.
Each raindrop dies into the earth, into a puddle, into a stream. Yet no one cries for the death of a raindrop.