Clinging like moss to the ground, conscious of its buried treasure, I found no contentment in the resting place for reflection. Death bonds with life, as trees planted in the Holy Land honor your memory. In our mourning, we dug deep to place the Purple Ash, as our voices cracked in kadish. The grief released as seasons changed, and branches reached out, like yourlove, above and beyond our existance. The Giving Tree rooted in this family provides reason to remember fruits of labor as we savor her season of tenderness. (c)Susan Fridkin
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