Enjoy remembering, in spite of it all

My daughter N (now amazingly, miraculously 4) was out on the back porch, blowing bubbles.

She said to me: "This makes me remember Grace."

"Why?"

"Because they go into the air."

Maybe because of the wind? Maybe because we let the balloons go at the cemetery? Whatever the reason, it's an incredibly precious thing to share with someone else.

Face Mother's Day

"Is she your only?"

The poor woman who asked me this question. She had no idea. I had to pause and recover. And in the split second of processing this, I decided I couldn't handle it. So I didn't answer truthfully; I answered conveniently. We were in the middle of a party, I didn't want to face the followup, the horror, the explanation, I just couldn't.

So I got over the bodyblow of this question and said, "Yes, she [my daughter N] is my only."

But of course, I have two daughters. Only one is alive.

Today is Mother's Day. My dad gives my mother a set of roses every year: 1 pink for her, 3 white for each of her kids, and now a yellow for each grandchild. This year, he included 3 yellows -- one for my daughter, N, one for my amazing niece L, and one for Grace.

That was another one that took the wind out of me, but was a happy one. Makes me love my dad - who has faced so much loss of his own in his life - so much.