A Variation on Vows Guests arrive for the celebration. Neat wrappings wait to lay crinkled. Pressed formals hang in garment bags, not knowing their fate.
Twenty-four nurses trailed into the room. They found seats within the circular configuration of chairs, where I sat. A mound of rocks rested in the middle of the circle.
“Write as if you were dying,” pens Annie Dillard. My relationship with dying began in 1978, the year I entered nursing school.
Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us. ~Samuel Smiles People in Maine coined this winter, “The one that wouldn’t end.” Pounded with snow and snappy temperatures, this resilient people hold on with the hope for spring, new life.