When my husband’s niece died on April 25th of this year, he drove out to be with his brother and family. I wrote about it here. She’s the little girl in the chair right over there to your left, but you probably knew that.

Well, when Der Bingle stopped here on his way back to work at Wright-Patt Air Force Base, he opened his bag and handed me some copies from her memorial service. And I set them aside on a table in the corner of the living room. I guess we were talking at the time and I just assumed I’d look more closely at them later. But I didn’t; I just kept walking by them and noticing them, yet not picking one up.

Today I was feeling at my wit’s end – not just a usual blip on the screen, but profoundly so.  I walked aimlessly into the living room and my hand brushed on something that connected with something else which tipped another thing a certain way . . . and the paper with Jody’s picture on it fluttered to the floor.

It landed so that the back side was facing me and when I picked it up and brought it in focus, I saw what I had missed some weeks ago – a tribute to her from her little brother, Joe. He’s not little anymore, though; he’s this Air Force guy now.

This is what I read:
(click on image to enlarge)

At first I thought, “Drat, I would have included this in the posts about her life and her passing.” I think, however, that it worked out better this way – his dad’s remembrance was paramount then, a focusing lens on a life that was. And it was powerful, a lighthouse carrying a message from heart to heart.

Joe’s words echo back to what his dad wrote, reminding us of those words and putting emphasis on the family aspect.

Then I looked inside and read what was under her picture:

And I felt no longer at wit’s end, but comforted and encouraged . . . and, yes, looking forward to going on.

So that’s today’s story, one that came free like the kiss of a breeze.