Sometimes the stars seemed so far away.

I know I have written about this before, but it is on my mind this morning. And it's important.
For years I thought they were my flowers. But they're totally not.
They're Nancy's flowers.
I feel like having them on my little kitchen table brings me closer to this woman that I didn't even really know as a real, whole person with
stories and faults and humour. She was my aunt, and our bond is that she died on my birthday.
It is my favourite part of my birthday.
The celebration layered with something somber. It's entirely beautiful. It's humbling. I know that I don't deserve it. At all.
I love being part of the remembering. I hope that I accept these flowers with sufficient grace. How did I manage to be on the recievin end of all that love? With something so tangible and fragrant and lovely.
I am honored. Deeply.
It is actually beyond my understanding. But then, it's death and flowers and love and mystery. I don't think I'm supposed to understand it.
So thanks Becky, for cracking my heart open. Sorry it took me so long to see these flowers as more than flowers.
Incidentally, this year's bouquet is the most beautiful one I have ever had.

"Rough seas, they carry me, where ever I go."
-Josh Ritter

I love this line of music. It speaks. We expect that peace alone will carry us. But there is bouyancy in choppy water too. And movement.
We may be lost, and sick over the side. The point is that we are carried.
And next time we'll read about stars and pack some gravol.
So don't worry.