In life, we all leave a mark of some kind. Some leave children, or a life's work, or perhaps something built with our own hands - a building, or home, or art of some kind. Some leave words, or perhaps photos. But one thing we all share in this life is that we leave stories for others to tell or laugh about, or cry over.
The story we write every day.
When we pass from this lifetime, we leave those stories behind as a trail of breadcrumbs for others to decode who we were - and for those who knew us to reminisce about our life. Even in death, we live on.
Patricia Anne Marie Eastman passed from this life on May 8th, 2014. She was a nurse, a recent member of the Lions Club, a neighbor, a partner, a friend, a companion. She was also a sister, a daughter, a grandmother, and so many other things. But first and foremost, she was the mother of a woman I love dearly.
Pat beat cancer twice. She raised 3 daughters, and had a good heart. At family gatherings, she was always very helpful but she had a penchant for cleaning up just a little bit early. It's ironic that she stole Death's plate away from him twice, surviving both bouts of breast cancer. In the end, Death blindsided her with a heart attack. The cancer just wasn't going to work, evidently.
Her tears fall freely
I try to kiss them away
As I hold her close
I'll have more to say. Just not now.
Merry Meet Again