Welcome to Litsy!

Two sisters, a child on the autistic spectrum who has the gift of energy healing, two men in love with the same woman, death and dying, and a lot of flowers. There are messages of love, forgiveness, sacrifice, and the fact that words are not the only way to communicate. I also loved how the author used the Victorian tradition of the language of flowers. I loved this gentle book and the way it speaks of death, losing the fear of it.

Death had not felt empty. Instead, it felt like waiting for something special, and its taste was unexpected, almost like chocolate, rich and slightly bitter.

When she opened her eyes, the green hills were brighter, and the wild roses growing along the white-plank fence encircling the cemetery were sunset pink. Normally, the roses wouldn‘t flower for another month, but last year, after the funeral, Antoinette had pushed her hands into the dirt and they sprang to life. They hadn‘t stopped blooming since. Even bowed under a blanket of snow, the pink petals shone like the spots on a butterfly‘s wing.

As in real life, ferns grew along the bank, but in her dream the fronds were made of words instead of leaves. She would sit there, eating leaves, singing under the moon until her throat was raw. Then she‘d run home, wake her mother, and fix everything. Words had power.

“When she loses hope, hold on to it for her. The point isn‘t whether she gets better,” Will said. The point is whether she goes through this alone or has someone with her who loves her, someone who tells her everything will be all right after she‘s gone. Love her enough to believe *that* for her.

As a Hospice volunteer, Medium, and Death Doula—this line really spoke to me!

The day of the funeral, snow covered the ground. Lily stood at the graveside, trying not to stare at the two gaping holes, but looking elsewhere was worse. Rose bent forward like a tree snapped by the weight of ice. Antoinette shrieked at the falling snowflakes. Behind them stood a row of mourners. Snow caught everywhere, on Lily‘s hair, her eyelashes, her cheeks. It was obscenely beautiful, like standing inside of a snow globe.

Antoinette remembered a woman with dark hair and moss-green eyes. A woman who looked like something that bloomed at night.

Puffy white-flowered Bradford Pear trees dotted the landscape. The trees were invasive, able to grow anywhere, including the thick Kentucky soil. They spread like the honeysuckle in the woods behind Eden Farms, but Lily liked them. There was something to admire about a species that planted itself anywhere, even if it wasn‘t wanted.

Shown: Bradford Pear trees in the spring lining our old driveway. Beautiful but they stink!

Discover the Power of Reflection and Renewal: Explore the Meaning and Significance of Lent with Robert H. Wellington's e-book.

Download for FREE at https://roberthwellington.com/videos-audios/

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While discharging books, a library volunteer found a cute flamingo card inside with a donation and thank you message. Made my day at work. 😍 We have some really delightful patrons!

#library #librarybookfinds