Every one of them. I would buy every one. The three, no, the four, The four homes you / we lived in, I would buy them all and turn them into museums of the memories you gave us, and the stories our God gifted us with, through the forge of love from which you shaped us.
Oh, what magnificence you surround me in the siblings you encircled me with. These have become the fleshy treasures of my heart, the four and the two— Men, joyful and generous, strong and courageous filling rooms and days and nights with stories and laughter and wisdom.
The women, oh what women! Two flowers of grace and beauty— They adorn their days and their friends with creativity, loyalty and love. Who am I to stand with such a company? A wastrel with a pen— But perhaps a pen can carve a place, a moment, a monument.
“Once upon a time there was a man and a women who met and loved for 50 years and planted a garden of flesh. They nurtured it, and protected it, and tended it till one day a magical thing happened. A waterfall of love began to flow from it. It spilled out of the garden and over the rocky crags of life, and spread throughout the neighboring valleys— A symphony of honor to their memory.”
