I only knew Flo for some five years as we work together on bookkeeping files for mutual clients. She was a gracious soul with her time and have the best ever smile. When I think of her passing it reminds me of a passage from Dickens a Christmas Carol and because flow was such an avid reader, I wanted to share it.
DEATH BE NOT PROUD
Oh cold ,cold , rigid dreadful Death, set up thine altar here, and dress it with such terrors as thou hast at thy command; for this is thy dominion! But of the loved, revered, and honored head thou canst not turn one hair to thy dread purposes, or make one feature odious. It is not that the hand is heavy, and will fall down when released; it is not that the heart and pulse are still; but that the hand was open, generous, and true; the heart brave, warm, and tender, and the pulse a woman's. Strike, Shadow, strike! And see her good deeds springing from the wound, to sow the world with life immortal!
