Melinda was my first cousin.  And special she was.  She was the oldest adopted from birth person in our family.  She was so positive that it was a joy to be around her.

She had a less than ideal life.  And when she died unexpectedly in her fifties, it was a shock to my entire family.  She was cremated and brought home to Georgia.  About a month later, we assembled to celebrate her life.  I drove home from Tennessee and visited my grandmother’s grave.  Milly’s mom and dad were also buried there.  I cried.  Milly was finally home and at peace. 

I don’t attend many funerals and don’t do well with them.  But this was a peaceful healing time for me.  I found myself in a floral shop downtown.  I purchased a bundle of tiny orange flowers that spoke to me for Milly.  There was no card.  Just a ribbon and a sincere thought for her.  I suddenly remembered on the way to the celebration that her favorite color had been purple.  But I chose the orange.  When I arrived, members of her married family were there.  They had wanted some flowers, but did not think to get any.  I produced the small bundle and we placed them below a good photograph of Milly.  They were the perfect color, perfect match and Milly had probably helped me pick them out.

I met her oldest grandson that day.  He was a most impressive young man.  I knew then why she had always talked about him with pride.  Milly and I spoke about once a month.  He was pure joy.  We all laughed, cried and remembered.  Milly was put to rest that day.  She is at peace.  She is smiling on us all and encouraging us to do well.  After all, look how well she did on earth with so very little.