This exquisitely beautiful reading about just a mundane birdhouse, reminds us that it is the small things we might remember about those we have loved and lost.

First line: Do you have a twenty-foot extension ladder? Last line: You might say that memory itself is a piece of real estate, a residence with a private entrance and a mystery inside like this small chateau painted blue with orange spots on it, hung twenty feet high – a thing, for a while, out of reach of the predator, time…

Except no matter how many times we read this, the vivid imagery of the frozen solid honey cake is still breathtaking.

First line: When my mother died, one of her honey cakes remained in the freezer. Last line: Leave something of sweetness and substance in the mouth of the world…

Really a beautiful reading about grief and how we miss those who are no longer with us in the most routine parts of our days.

First line: Johnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably fell down there. Last line: For my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I’m speechless: I am living, I remember you…

You know when you get so mad at your mom or dad for f*#king you up? Us too. This reading helps.

First line: Remembering our parents. Last line: Some of us may feel that our parents harmed us, intentionally or unintentionally, and that we are not yet able to forgive them; we hope that our mentioning them here today will help bring us a measure of healing…