Our sweet dog was the light of our lives.
She was as bright and cheery as the summer flower she was named for. Lisa and I had been the proud owners of this 65-pound, rust-colored, sometimes stinky mutt for 14 years.
We hardly knew what to do with ourselves when Daisy passed away. No Daisy to accompany us on walks or errands. No Daisy to share a canoe with us on the lake in summer. Her ashes sat in a tin box on my dresser.
As the first year without her came to an end, Lisa had an idea. “Why don’t we sprinkle her ashes somewhere special?” she said. “Like by our favorite lake in the Pocono Mountains.” Daisy loved our weekends in the Poconos.
We drove out there and had a simple ceremony. We told our favorite Daisy stories and sprinkled her ashes along the shore. A few months later we went back to the lake to visit. The whole shore was alive with buzzing bees. I’d never seen so many in one place! I had to get this on film.
The bees were there because of a huge patch of brilliant white and yellow daisies. They’d popped up where we sprinkled the ashes. Daisy’s daisies. A bright and cheery bouquet from heaven.
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