Saturday, December 13, 2008
I walked to the beach this morning during the time Kirsten's service was being held in Delaware to say my own private goodbye. Our windswept dunes looked more than ever like snowdrifts on the beach she loved. I repeated again the old Gaelic blessing I heard many years ago and have printed here before. It seemed appropriate...
"Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.