I am home now and my friend calls. A mutual friend lost her mother on Wednesday. Many years ago I painted on silk and cut out hearts. They were pocket size and I gave away pocket hearts. Many of them went to Russia with a friend who worked on reconciliation. When my friend whose mother just died went through her mother's drawers, she came across one of my hearts. She had given it to her mother and her mother had kept it all these years. Her mother is now lying with my silk heart over her heart. Her arms are folded over the heart, and her mother will be buried with my heart, my silk heart, on her heart. Am I touched?
I am deeply touched with all we share, and the oneness that is here. Today we kept meeting people who asked us to toast their mothers too. I feel the mothers honored, in my heart, in all hearts, as one.