Today is Wednesday.



As I allow my mind to travel over the many years of our friendship, I remember vividly the first moment I saw John: at his mother's funeral. My parents, who have since passed, were close to John's parents, who have also passed.

I remember my mother whispering in my ear, There is John, Alberta's son.

His daughter and wife Elizabeth were standing closely by.

We were all Unitarian Universalist and we attended the funeral in the church I was raised in.

Sun light streamed through the beautiful stain glass depicting the holy saints of every religion known to human kind. A prism-like effect seemed to cast a purple aura on the family, as they stood forlornly in their shared grief.

The last supper was open in the back of the church for the occasion.

John was also raised Unitarian.

I remember all the conversations we had about what it was like to be a Unitarian from birth to that present moment.

Do we think differently, do we believe in God, are we more open minded about every world religion?

I remember the church undergoing turmoil when a beloved minister was ousted by the board. John investigated the inequities of the situation and as the drama unfolded, reliably kept us informed and supported the man faithfully.

Yet there was nothing we could do to keep the minister.

This caused sadness that John would often discuss over the years, causing him to leave the Unitarian Church.

John and Elizabeth are renown musicians. They performed their beautiful music locally, nationally and internationally, John with his Cello, Elizabeth her Piano.

They were both child prodigys. They played music together with soul and passion: classical, sometimes jazz and modern.

The first time John and Elizabeth divorced, they remarried under our Willow Tree which also happened to be the anniversary of my marriage to Tom.

It was a cloudless August day with great hope and promise of new lives, new potential for us all.

Tom and I, Elizabeth's daughter Bonnie, my dad, who was still strong and fully functioning, David Gramp, the minister, and Ipswitch, our tiny calico cat who paraded back and forth, displaying her approval and need to be included in an event that was lovely and harmonious--were all in attendance.

Hansel the Ram and Nettle his faithful companion, kept a safe distance.

The ceremony was performed by the mighty Conestoga River that runs courageously by the old Willow Tree that stands there still.

Within the past year, Elizabeth and John divorced again, this time with no reconciliation.

John died of a broken heart while Elizabeth went on to fully embrace her friends, her daughter and her grandson.

She was at peace.

She loved John but could not live with him.

But when the month of March revealed that John was deteriorating rapidly and died minutes after Elizabeth told him she loved and forgave him, the grief and gifts of the situation struck all of us who knew them both, in the light of the returning sun.