If I knew today was my last, I would paint and paint and paint, a flower for each of my loved ones. When my father died, I realised how few real treasures I had from him - the things I value most are his hand-tools which his big, strong hands once held, or a badly made candle stick he constructed on his lathe, or a birthday card written in his slanting, neat handwriting. I now realise, it's not perfection, it's the real you that our loved ones will miss when we're gone.
Thank you Esther - a lovely prompt!
If I knew today was my last, I would paint and paint and paint, a flower for each of my loved ones. When my father died, I realised how few real treasures I had from him - the things I value most are his hand-tools which his big, strong hands once held, or a badly made candle stick he constructed on his lathe, or a birthday card written in his slanting, neat handwriting. I now realise, it's not perfection, it's the real you that our loved ones will miss when we're gone.