Present in memory…

Memories of loved ones are like songs in our soul.  Margaret Wakeley

It is that time if year- the time when memories of loved ones can meet us at every turn. Sometimes they greet us with gentle warmth as natural as the touch of a beloved grandmother or the wise words of a respected mentor. It is often hard to know what stirs these ‘visits’ but when they arrive we pause… to remember.

There are other times when memories are not a surprise and they arrive creating a mix of feelings. I have anticipated memories this week — memories of a day when we were stopped with disbelief as news of the Sandy Hook tragedy began to unfold. No one knew what to say or do. Our hearts were broken for all the loss and the grief that would follow.

Often shock of tragedy transforms into other emotions. I am certain that the Sandy Hook community has experienced every known emotion. Over time people have entered this town – invited to offer their support in various ways. These invitations are not random and have often become sacred as they unfold.

As a way to honor the memory of all who were lost on that day in Sandy Hook and to spread hope for continued healing for all who live in that community today – I share this article with you. Roger Hutchinson was one of the people invited to enter that town in the months to follow – offering his gifts and grace. To inspire and encourage —

One Year Later: How the Painting Table is Helping Newtown Heal



In honor of memory…



Sitting in the back of the Unit’s Dining Room,
laughing & laughing.
It all goes away, you understand, all the memories…
of family Sunday dinners & Midwest childhoods
& a young girl’s dance.
And more.

It ALL goes away, memories & stories
taking flight like birds that have stayed
too long in the Fall, and felt a North Wind.

Awayyyyyyyyyyyy it all goes,
even Dignity, of course —
until all that is left is
laughter & companionship.
What else really matters?

A Flock of Memories will wait for us
on the far side of The Green Hill,
like children excited at our Return. Words by Scott Fisher

For more reflections and inspiration visit:
Episcopal Cafe