Kylee

Kylee never looked more beautiful.

Two weeks ago, as she walked down the isle, her purple graduation gown billowed gently with each step. Her cap on her head, her straight blond hair framed her delicate features; her face glowed with her trademark smile. For a moment, there was nothing about her countenance to betray the fact she had just struggled to get through a difficult anniversary -- five months since her mother's death.

Those months were not easy. Neither were the preceding years as she watched her mom battle leukemia. Last year, her mother, my friend, Stacey, wanted to live to spend just one more Christmas on this earth with her children. That wish wasn't granted. However, she had another wish: to see her only daughter graduate from high school.

As I sat in the audience and watched Kylee accept her diploma I could have sworn there was a little glimmer of light off to the right behind the podium. Maybe a camera flash. Maybe a glint of light on someones eye glasses.

Maybe not.

Kylee, I can't say exactly where she was in that auditorium, but I could feel the presence of your mother.

Congratulations, Stacey. You got your wish.

Congratulations, Kylee. Your future is bright as bright as the love of your angel mother who watches over you.