I’m at the river this morning, and there are still flowers everywhere!
It’s late in the season. These flowers should be done by now. But they’re not. They’re still here, still blooming, like nobody told them it was time to quit.
I just stood there looking at them for a while and I captured some photos for you. 
It made me think about the grief journey. And aging in general – thinking that the blooming part of your life is behind you. That the color and the beauty belonged to who you were before the loss. Before grief and age rearranged everything.
But these flowers aren’t worried about any of that. They bloom when they bloom. They’re not checking to see if they’re still allowed to.
And honestly, neither should we.
The beauty in you didn’t expire. It didn’t end when your heart broke.  it didn’t end when you reached a more advanced age.
Something in you is still blooming. Maybe slowly. Maybe right when you least expected it. And maybe softer and truer than anything that ever bloomed in you before.
If you can, go outside today, find something still blooming. Let it remind you.
You’re not done yet.