I go to sleep every night knowing that I have done something on that day that will improve another person’s life, the sign for me of an entirely successful life. I go to sleep More and more peacefully, knowing I have done something to make another person’s life less painful or difficult.

We all share at least one thing – we will die. We have no control over that, but we do get to decide if we live well and meaningfully. I want to sleep well and peacefully. I want to forgive, let go of the darkness, and live in the light.

This afternoon, Maria and I will sit in front of a bonfire to honor Maria’s mother, who died two days ago, and also remember what we loved about her and perhaps what we couldn’t. Mothers hold a special place in our hearts, and their loss is a profound and challenging thing. They deserve a loving farewell. We only have one mother.

We’re getting some beautiful fall days, and I’m getting some new flowers in my beds. Some are just starting to bloom; some are dying off. Like the farm and the animals who live here, they teach us a great deal about life and death.

 

The colors keep coming; this one is just starting to bloom. I’m still getting dizzy when I stand up or bend my head. But every day is a little better than the day before.

Purple is deep and eye-catching.

 

My begonias are flowers of dignity and grace. They make me think.

I love watching Ed Gulley’s Tin Man; the flowers have swarmed him.

Another beautiful Morning In The Mist.