Yesteday was the first anniversary of my friend's death from a car accident on ice. So we drove up to the cemetery a couple of towns away to take some flowers to her gravesite. It turned into a joyful occasion when her daughter texted me to ask if we were in town. The kids and grandkids had been painting their father's new house and were going to go to the cemetery after they stopped to pick up some food to bring with them, did we want onions on our hamburgers?
They also brought several bunches of flowersl. We went to the cemetery office to pick up some of the temporary flower holders because we thought there would be too many for the permanent cup installed at Donna's gravesite. However, when the kids got there (altogether eight of us), we began eating hamburgers while the girls set about preparing the flowers to fit in the cup.
It was a beautiful cold windy day, if that's not too much of an oxymoron. Donna's gravesite is fabulous, with the lush green one expects from a cemetery but also with a spectacular flow of lesser mountains followed by bigger ones then monster ones behind those.
The kids had brought chairs for us old people. (And here I thought this was a spontaneous mutual support meeting). Darrel took the cup over to the nearest hosebib and filled it with water. By the time Kate had cut the flowers the appropriate length and added them one by one instead of sticking what came from the corner flower store in that cup (like my husband and I had done), the arrangement looked professional. The bouquet she made was augmented by some greenery from across the road that her sister, Kirstin wandered over to pick. Their mother would have been proud of them for their ingenuity.
We sat there with her family on that lovely day eating hamburgers while we discussed flowers and Donna. What could have been more perfect for my friend?
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