In Memory of Betty Menacho

I am standing on the shore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue of the ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and the sky come together.

Then someone says, "There, she is gone." "Gone where?" Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me, not her.

And just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone!" there are dogs with wagging tails and family and friends ready to greet her. Voices ready to take up a glad shout, "Here she comes!"

With love forever

Linda, CH. Meadow, Deja vu and Autumn, too.