Handprints on Our Hearts

Last night, a memorial service. Deeply touching.

What struck me was this … the gifts we share, one to another.

We closed the service with a simple exercise.  Each person sharing “I am grateful that Jen brought me/ gave me/ taught me …”

Simple.  And every answer stunningly beautiful. Every answer an opening, a window into a cherished relationship. Softball to music to Atlantic City.  None repeated.

How that works I don’t know.  How we can come to mean so much to each other in such unique ways I can’t fully hold.  But while I don’t know how it works, I do know that it works.

And maybe that it part of the light we find in the darkness when those we love pass.

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