It is butterflies because of my mother. She loved them. Today in the garden, there was a butterfly, and of course I thought of her and could almost feel her presence. Then strangely enough, someone sent me an old picture of my parents today. It was a picture of both my parents and a man named Gary, my son's father in law, all of whom are all deceased. Not a great picture, no one is looking at the camera, it's just a candid picture. Gary looks tired. He was diabetic, and I don't think he was having a wonderful day that day. Nevertheless, he was there, and we all appreciated that he came. My dad was sick a lot that summer, he only got to go to two out of the three weddings. So he was tired too. Odd that they sent it to me at all, much less today.
I think I already wrote about the day my mom died, and how there were butterflies everywhere migrating. I was just standing in the parking lot watching them. Since she loved them already, it made me feel like she was going home with the butterflies.
Time to get out a piano, or a zither, or maybe an accordion....
or watch AFV. Yeah. That will be good.
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