Kites in the Sky

Wednesday is the anniversary of Maria's death. Two years. How does one honor such a day? It's a question I've struggled with.

This year, kites kept flying through my mind. Kites? Yes, kites. And then I remembered Truman Capote's beautiful story, A Christmas Memory.

(This is the end of the story where he receives a letter with news his childhood friend has died.)

... A message saying so merely confirms a piece of news some secret vein had already received, severing from me an irreplaceable part of myself, letting it loose like a kite on a broken string. That is why, walking across a school campus on this particular December morning, I keep searching the sky. As if I expected to see, rather like hearts, a lost pair of kites hurrying toward heaven.

This year we're gathering at the cemetery to fill the sky with kites.

Praying for Wind...

Sabra