Penelope's memorial was today. Quaker style, in a circle. People would stand and share a story of a moment or two of when their life and Penny's ran parallel. Her unusual way of seeing people, her passion in advocating what was right. The night Logan was born, college, lambs in slings and spinning wool into yarn on the school playground. We sang and there was food. I didn't eat or speak. I watched and listened and marvelled at someone I'd known such a short time. She came to my life as a sonic boom. Resonating then gone. My friend whom I will miss.
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