Memories are as numerous as the falling leaves

Time to change the color of this page. Seasonal changes seem to fit the mood. An interfaith memorial service on Sunday All Saints Day was my responsibility at Chaparral House. It was attended by residents, and family. We had a tree of bare sticks in a tall glazed jar on which we tired small pieces of paper with the name of a loved one being remembered and of each resident that had died in our community. We had seven in the last three weeks alone pass on to life eternal. It was a warm and meaningful time together and brought a few tears, thoughts of loved ones that had been stored in hearts.  Great age has a way of making the years melt into a flat line and the hurts and joys have all merged into an almost lost meaning, but just pulling up the name of loved one seems to stir yet still an awareness that we are not alone even in our physical separation.  It is a bit odd when we see this in the aged; it serves to remind me that time is so ephemeral really.  The older we get the closer we seem to merge into the infinity of time.  Its either a boredom with life, which it may well be, or it is some other kind of spiritual or invisible awareness that comes to one in the silence of physical inability to function on ones own.  In any case this awareness or place is a one of a peaceful nature.

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