Sunday, September 19, 2010


Just back from a funeral in NJ, I began to think about our lives and those we touch. And this lady was one particularly beutiful soul in this world. As we talked about times together and viewed photos I pondered the traditions that are so entrenched in family life. They are what hold us together.

A very touching part of the procession to the final site was driving past the home where Aunt Kay lived. How very telling in the story of our lives. Her dwelling, her home was honored as an integral part of where the love, the bond sprung forth.

In our own space, our own home, our own dwellings we define who we are. I have iris in my garden that I have moved from home to home (sometimes stored in black plastic bags) that I have had now for over 30 years. You know, the pale lavendar blue kind that smell like grape popsicles. Part of the tradition of the iris is to give them away when I separate them in the fall so they may prosper in friends' lives as well.

It's time to part the iris again and let a part of me bloom for someone else. Our traditions weave a rich bond with those in our lives. Design a tradition of your own that keeps that bond growing and pass it on.

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