F. Marilyn Downey moved to her next celestial adventure February 28. She remains a generous and loving spirit, happy to help those in need, glittering the realm with her infectious laugh, her ongoing skill at finding the brightness wherever her eyes alight, with a steady and gracious demand that there is light in everyone and everything. "See the light, Linda," she'd remind me when I complained about some wrong. "See the light in him/her." It took years for me to learn this, and I'd confess that. "Okay, I saw his light. Teeny light. Dim." She lived next door, and I'd visit her bearing hot cake, a new recipe, a good story. In her home there was always peace and love. She had many crystals in her front window, and the light would dance in the sun. Rainbows bounced on the ceiling, walls, our skin. One day I'd come to loan her a book, and I looked up. On the ceiling was this angel (the image is a photograph of her.) We watched in awe. I had to figure out where it was coming from (angels aren't really on ceilings, right?) It was the light from a crystal bouncing from the plastic cover of the library book. Marilyn was an angel on earth. And now she's an angel in everyone's ceiling. I will not mourn her passing, because she will always be with me. And we have an arrangement to meet at the new galaxy forming in about 65,000,000 years. Nakemiin, dear friend.
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