Oftentimes, when Bev and I are beachcombing along the river shore, we’ll spot an occasional butterfly. Sometimes it will flit along beside us for a few minutes.
Those of you who have been following this blog for awhile will recall my cousin, Lona, who passed away last year in November. She was my age and had been bedridden and a convalescent home resident for a couple of years.
Bev also knew Lona for many years. And earlier this summer, on one of our earlier beachcombing trips, Bev remarked that the butterfly we saw could be Lona, joining us as we looked for shells and sea glass.
And my mom had such a fondness for butterflies, I’m always reminded of her when I see one.
Now, each time we see a butterfly on the beach, we smile as we remember those two very special ladies.
(* Although I took the above picture, I really can’t take complete credit for it. Bev’s daughter, Lacey, joined us for a shelling trip recently. She spotted this beauty and clued me in to the photo op.)
~These Days Of Mine~