Depths of kindness

Yesterday morning, writing about my dad, I struggled to think what I needed from the day -- the tenth anniversary of his death. It's hard every year to know what to do, how to mark the day, even though in all honesty I do think about him every day.

At his request, I'd scattered his ashes in the Gulf of Mexico, just off Siesta Key, Florida where he lived the last years of his life. Yesterday I thought, "if only I could scatter some flowers in the water down there." And then I realized that I do in fact know someone who lives near Siesta Key, someone who would understand.
And so I wrote Kim an email, asking such a big favor.

And she did this for me. She gathered a whole basket of beautiful Florida garden flowers, she went down to the water -- even her husband Fred went along to help take pictures -- and she let my memories and sadness and celebration and love float out on the water.

I will forever be in awe of this kindness. I sit here struggling with words -- how can I express this? How hopeful and amazing that perhaps we really never can know the depth of kindness in the world. Thank you, Kim.