Strips of fabric rain like multicolored tickertape from a tree, remnants of a child’s favorite shirt or sock or pillowcase. Little medallions stamped with names of the dead twinkle in the breeze. In a grotto, the brokenhearted have clipped prayer cards to branches, left objects including a baseball and a toy truck, and painted dozens of stones memorializing someone gone too soon.
For Andy, “My Twin Forever.” For Monica, “Loved Forever.” For Jade, “Forever One Day Old.”
