I have two salt lamps in my study room. They emit a low, warm glow. My father's ashes rest in a box near one of them. I say goodnight to the wedding picture of my 21-year-old parents I put up near the ashes. The light comes from the lamp, but my parents still shine brightest in my mind. I miss them and I talk to them every day. And I'm thankful for all they were and still are. The light comes from us because we carry and pass the light of 12,000 generations of humans.
I have two salt lamps in my study room. They emit a low, warm glow. My father's ashes rest in a box near one of them. I say goodnight to the wedding picture of my 21-year-old parents I put up near the ashes. The light comes from the lamp, but my parents still shine brightest in my mind. I miss them and I talk to them every day. And I'm thankful for all they were and still are. The light comes from us because we carry and pass the light of 12,000 generations of humans.