These past few weeks I've been dealing with a terminally ill person and trying to provide that person the gentlest way to pass on. She died over a week ago and she was homeless. I can only imagine the adventures she lived in her life and perhaps some choices that I feel would be disrespectful to judge, especially posthumously. Today her purse was delivered to me to pass on to her next of kin. All these years of living, all the hopes and dreams this lady had, are reduced to the contents of a green purse. I don't want to even inventory the purse because I just feel it would be disrespectful. This green purse...and whatever it holds...sitting on the floor in my office awaiting a reunion with its owner's loved one. I hope there is a special remembrance of the lady awaiting her loved one's inspection of the purse.
How profound to have your life's work reduced to a green purse.
