She liked the flowers I brought this morning, the rosemary, abandoned rose, elderflower, chicory, queen anne's lace, butterfly weed, gathered between here and Copper Hill and landing beside her in a jelly jar.
I don't know tonight whether flowers are distinguishable from all the other loveliness she sees behind closed eyes.
This evening, Heartsong came to sing, a group of beautiful souls who practice and gather to sing for those who are nearing the end of this life. What a gift! Just to be given it, never mind the music. Their one more song was Om Mani Padme Hum, and they kept chanting it as they filed out past my mother's bed, one by one, greeting her with a kiss, a hug, a squeeze of the hand, and, because she'd asked, their names.
Tonight, before sinking again into sleep, Such beauties.
She, speaking of us.
She sees it even when she isn't looking.
We are all learning so much. Patience, grace, surrender, give. Repeat as needed.
P.S. Wow (as I sip the last of my strong cup, here on the first watch that is keeping my head from the pillow).