To every thing there is a season - it is said. Lifetimes we calendar in years. Cut flowers we're lucky to count by days. How then do we mark time for memories? By what grid or ruler are they measured? By what depth or quantity do we assign them? Perhaps it is only in those fleeting moments of awareness in which the person comes alive to us through memories that is how they should be held. Or let go. We bury Jean tomorrow. She left a gentle and tender impression upon me, though I knew her very little through her long years lived. To Jean - Peace Be With You now!
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