Saturday the 22nd of March was the 9 month anniversary of my Mom's death. It seems weird to have a death anniversary. I need to mark time. Still a first to go through, Mothers Day. I worry more for my Dad. For the most part he is doing well. The panic attacks are gone and he has gained back the weight he lost. He doesn't talk about going home any longer and he seems calmer. His memory is beginning to fail but only with certain things. He has trouble coming up with words. We know what he is trying to tell us. Sometimes my husband looks at me after my Dad has made a statement that seems incredibly obscure. I generally know exactly what my Dad is saying. After 47 years of adoring this man it's easy. I can only imagine how heavy my Mom's heart was as she was leaving us because she had to leave her husband and best friend behind. This photo is obviously of them. Circa 1958.

I ran into my Mom's chemotherapy nurse at a dog show a few weeks ago. I always feel uncomfortable when someone asks how I am. Perhaps it is survivor guilt. I'm fine, I'm alive, she's gone and the hardest times are coming for me.

The flowers are starting to peak there heads out of the ground. The trees are starting to bud. When Mom was first diagnosed in September of 2006 that was one of the first things she told me. She said "I don't know if I will see flowers bloom again". Mom was an extraordinary gardener. Everything grew for her. She did see Spring, twice after her diagnosis. Last year she wasn't strong enough to plant her own flowers. I planted them all while she watched. I asked her if she liked what I had chosen and how I had planted them. Mom said "I better like them considering everything you have done for me." Everything I had done? You raised me. You gave me everything. Because of you I am still here.

As Mom continued to grow weaker last spring I would go to their house everyday and stay with Mom while Dad would go out and do the shopping and errands. I would make her lunch, give her her meds and make sure she was comfortable. I would cover her up on the couch with the afghan and tuck it in around her tiny feet. She looked at me one day and told me that I made her feel so good when I came over and cared for her.

It is that time of the year again here in the northern mid-west. The snow is melting and we have just had our first sixty plus degree day. Every one breaks out their shorts and flip flops and for a brief moment we are basking in the sun. The rain returns and brings with it the moderate 30 degree days and near freezing nights.

Along with this comes the emergence of lost shopping carts from the giant snow banks in shopping center parking lots. Like skeletons frozen in time these winter fossils appear ready to be rescued and returned to their rightful homes.

I am ready to bid farewell to the snow for another season. I am confident that most of my fellow Michigan residents feel the same.