May, and June.

The sweet June Bosworth, mother of my dear friend Lori, passed away last Friday. I've spent much of the past few days with Lori and her children. This is both a difficult and a blessed time for them, Lori especially, and I treasure the moments I was able to spend with June during her last days of life. Thank you, Lori, for letting me share this time with you and with your mama. She is an elect lady and I will miss her. Tomorrow is June's funeral, and we will say good-bye to her for a time.


Life is oh, so precious.

"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: 'There, she is gone!

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: 'There, she is gone!' there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: 'Here she comes!'

And that is dying."  —Henry Van Dyke