In the Flux of Eternity She rests— in the patient hush of autumn light, her body a fragile flower cupped in the gentle palm of passing time. There is no trembling at the thought of dusk, no shadow curling at the edge of her gaze. She is not afraid. Her eyes, lucid as morning rain,..
It’s frangipani season in our son David’s adopted country of Thailand. Our sons call their mother “Moonie.” David says that the frangipani “remind me of Moonie in their ethereal beauty.” Moonie, my wife Anne, is terminally ill with glioblastoma, a particularly aggressive form of brain cancer. Frangipani | The Tree of Fragrance –..