by Charles Eaton
From our bedroom window, I can see a Great Horned Owl. It is balanced easily on a swaying limb of a large tree buffeted by strong winds. I don't know where its mate is. Pauline and I loved to watch the two huddle together. Sometimes one would shelter the other with a wing during rain.
These owls would both sit motionless for hours and then one would leave on silent wings for a destination beyond our sight. I would that I could have alerted each of you personally and sooner, but I have been topsy-turvy––often sitting motionless while buffeted by strong winds.
Last week on this day and hour, Pauline took flight on her own quite silent wings.
How is it that we can "Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep"
[Romans 12:15], and that we can do both at the same time? How can we be so completely alone and yet un-separated? The strong bonds of memory, woven by cords of love, are both mystery and gift––perhaps as precious as Life itself.