On Tuesday I got 11 hives ready for winter.
I condensed Langstroth hives to fewer boxes, shifted honey around so that every hive had enough, and arranged top bars in a way that benefits them as they form their winter cluster.
As these bees slow down and get ready to rest—I knew my grandma was doing the same. The nurses said she may not make it until morning.
I carried on with my beekeeping because it’s therapeutic.
When I couldn’t hold my grandma close as she took her last breaths, I was able to pray and say goodbye as I watched these bees end their day…with a beautiful sunset in the background. My grandma’s last.
Just like our breath carries in needed oxygen to our bodies—these bees carry in needed nutrients from plants; their coming and going like our own respiration…
My grandma passed on yesterday, the following morning.