A public memorial is being planned in a month or two for all those who knew and loved my sister Karen, but last night we held our own small family memorial for her here at home.
We created an altar right in the middle of the kitchen table, all the women working together. A collage of photos printed out and laid on a raised bed of brocade and lace, decorated with her favorite flowers (orange roses) and flanked with fat white candles and her full name written out in long-hand – it was a homage to her beauty and love of dramatic flair and I think she would have liked it.
We sat around the table, each of us – mother, sons, niece, sisters, brothers in law – speaking of her, reading, praying, playing music she would have loved, crying, laughing.
But even now, a week after her death, it’s still hard to believe she’s gone.
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Here’s the little altar I built for her in my office:
That’s me sitting in the back, and this is the prayer I’m offering up to Spirit:
May Karen’s blazing red-haired spirit continue to burn brightly in all those who have been touched by her, and may that flame spark an eternal delight in life and resounding kindness in all who come in contact with it.