I'm sitting, staring at the computer screen, seems like forever, what to write.
I hear you Mom, I know, and I'm sorry I didn't get my book together before
you died. It is there, waiting for me, to finish, to be. I will try Mom.
When I go to one of your favorite camps sites this June, a family favorite site,
I will place your Whispering Ripples in a bottle and send it out to sea.... Free.
It will be a joyful time to remember and honor you. So many fond memories with
You Dad and all the family there.
The Ocean calls to me Mom, like it did you, God's presence ever felt.
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