The Peace Lily 

A rare thing happened in the last week. The Peace Lily I brought home following my grandmother's funeral in 2006 shot up a white bloom. I say its rare, because it hasn't re-bloomed since the day we laid her to rest. It made me think of her, gifted me with thoughts of spending summers on the farm, and the joy with which I recalled those days warmed my winter-heart.

Then something even rarer happened. I noticed a second white bloom sprouting forth from the plant. Then I got the phone call early one recent Saturday morning. My grandpa had just passed, slipped his earthly bonds, and rejoined the oneness, once again entering into the spirit of my grandmother's presence.

How rare, I thought to myself. The Peace Lily hadn't bloomed in all these years, and now, as we approached the time of grandma's departure from her physical life, a bloom had come forth. Then the true rarity of the gift became clear to me. At the time of grandpa's transformation, a second snow white bloom had risen, joining the first. It reminded me of their love, now immortal. It brought to mind the nature of rebirth, and that even in sorrow, beauty can be found.

Together they left a legacy, Julia and John, that has seeded abundant generations and in their own way, changed the world.

For them, and the memories I hold, I will be eternally grateful.

Peace Be With You,
Karon