Holy ground. I walk across it every time I make an end of life visit. I have felt the holy stepping on lush carpets. I have felt the holy tripping over dogs. I have felt the holy in the tiny confines of a trailer waiting with a new widow for the funeral director to show. Each time I leave I take with me an experience that both drains me and yet gives me the desire to live and love every moment I have. With my children. With my friends. With my pony—with whatever each day brings…
Joanne Mannix