My late friend Steve R was interested in angels and anything to do with angels. He was, after all, the person who introduced me to the angel books that my friends are still embellishing and coloring for me all these years later.
In the months after Steve died, Lynne and I were visiting a ceramics shop close to the neighborhood where we lived in the Houston suburbs. We could buy greenware there, sand and clean it, then return it to be fired. This was my first experience with ceramics, and I decided to do this angel for Steve’s parents.
When Tom and I were able to go to Minnesota to visit them, I fell in love with their old farmhouse. Among some of its features were stained glass windows, and this window was in a wall between two rooms inside the house. The angel had a place of honor there, where Steve’s mother could look at her while she played her pipe organ.
They have since sold their farm and the old house and moved into a place that’s more manageable for them. I don’t know if they still have the angel, but I do know that everything about Steve remains close to their hearts, just as to my own heart. One reason I enjoy the Christmas holidays now is because I know how festive he’d make them if he were here. Sometimes the best way we can honor the memories and relationships of those we’ve lost is to celebrate life. It’s what those who loved us would want most for us–our happiness.