At the cemetery tap people leave the milk bottles full of water for the next person to carry to their loved ones grave. Such a teeny thing really, but it gladdens my heart when I lift the bottle expecting empty and discover water winking away in the sunlight. Someone has thought of me and my watery errand.
And in turn, I refilled for the next soul to discover they've been considered.
Water our losses, and let's hold hands with others doing the same. From Doris and I (who haunts her grave) over and out.
