It is Pascha, and we are each holding up a tiny slice of sky. We are each the sweeter for waiting, like layer cakes set up in old-fashioned frosting. I have thought of death and remembered it. It has come to me as a reminder every day in my bones. The loveliest people are bones underneath. Bones are testaments to living.  I have loved being alive and warm. I have been so happy and so sad. I have felt pain and love and the flame of candles that burn without consuming.  It has all been a gift, and every moment is a gift.  I look out at the world of living bone people, and I am so glad to see the laughter in their…