Unusually Delicate.

I have had a few very close people to me die. Death is a controversial thing...it's not easy. It causes heartbreak, confusion; those affected sometimes feel emotion they've never encountered. Questions arise, and doubt creeps in.  Other times it is a celebration.

I am an active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. We believe that there is further life after death. That our life continues, grows, can become great. We foster the idea that our families can be with one another for eternities. I know that I will see these sweet souls that I have lost sometime again.  Death has given me opportunity to reflect; in no means am I trying to say losing someone is easy, or desired.  However it can be the start of a new way of seeing.  

It's different for everyone. What makes us feel one way or another? Is it because someone has taught us ONE way and we are too comfortable to learn anything else? Or is there a way of believing something so strongly, that it becomes a knowledge we won’t deny?

Death defines the conclusion, the end, a final part.  But I do not believe it closes anything forever.  There are deaths to relationships and conversations.  Deaths of personalities and habits. Is it foolish to think anything can last forever, which by definition means ‘for all future time’, or is there always an end?  I think both to be true, but to me ‘an end’ means nothing but the beginning…of just another story.

Dried flowers. In theory they are dead, no longer living. They are so unique. And so gorgeous. The lines, the texture, the delicacy. If you as much as press too hard when picking up a petal, it will break.

The colors change when they dry out. The petals become something new completely. Nothing is the same… the way they no longer flow with the wind, the way they stand so stiff, their crackling noise when brushed against one another. They have a tighter, smaller shape. As nights and mornings pass, their hues transform. Watching the dramatic change in appearance is sometimes captivating.  So much so that I have saved any flower ever given to me, and they now stand upright, living [dried] in my home.  I have given them new life, and it is inspiring. 

“Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.”

-Oscar Wilde