I forget to live in love and gratitude. I get irritable and gossip and rush through visits with friends, and through life’s moments, too fast. I think I am not the only one who might say this. We all forget to savor the gift of blue skies and friendships and the quirkiness of our own and others’ pasts that create the story of who we are. We forget to taste and savor the gift of our body and the amazing plenitude of what feels so mundane. I think perhaps that is the one gift of death. That we are seated again in stillness for a time so that we can remember so much that is so easily forgotten.
About Christa Mastrangelo Joyce
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