Spend the day where you should spend the day

I thought I would spend this afternoon writing, or reading.  I did something far more important instead—went in search of orchids and carried them, with a broken heart, to the home of one of my mother's best friends.  Mrs. K. had lost her husband, lost him suddenly.  Her five beautiful daughters were near.  Still, I wanted to carry the essence of my mom to this dear and original and loving Mrs. K., and that essence would be orchids of not the ordinary kind.

So that I sat there, in that generous house, and listened to stories, and told stories, and suggested the power of stories written down.  Mr. K. stories.  We all have them.  Let's begin with the smile of that man.  Let's begin with the beauty of his daughters.

And then I drove home through the white of this winter and prayed for solace for a woman I've always loved.  A woman who, even in the midst of her great grief, insisted on grapes for her guests, on chocolate.