values
Extra Love
Nanna’s recipe called for extra love. Her hands were always dry and cracked from the sun, splintered from working the land, and covered in flour or spices from her kitchen. Her garden was an adventure filled wonderland to her kids, to her, it was what she needed to get by. There was always something to be done at Nanna’s house, but each mundane chore became magical as the home and land flourished beneath her fingers - strong, delicate, dedicated.
By Alycia Bourne3 years ago in Families
The Final Flight
I first thought it was a mausoleum, but it’s called a columbarium. There are niches within these miniature buildings that hold the ashes of loved ones. Some of them are large buildings with stained glass windows and hundreds of niches, and some are small stand-alones dotting the cemetery landscape. Both my parents were interred in one of these on August 4th at Floral Memory Gardens in Dade City after my mother passed away in July, seven years after my father.
By Barb Dukeman3 years ago in Families
Sorrow to Hope
For the first time in several decades, the door of the old barn was straining under the force of someone trying to push it open. A low groan was uttered in protest. The man continued to push. The barn continued to object. The power struggle lasted for quite a while before the door gave way slowly. Light swarmed into the open spaces of the interior, filling all it touched with warmth. Dust and small critters panicked, darting here and there as they looked for a new place to be left in peace.
By Jerene Buckles3 years ago in Families