Saturday, April 4, 2015


At Easter I miss her. The year she died, it was July, I packed away her Easter decorations in April and wondered, will this be it?
And it was.

It was a little porcelain bunny plaque in lilac and powder blue shades and she hung it above the door bell on a crooked nail. Today I had this thought. Her townhouse association voted to have cement siding applied to the walls, the stuff doesn't tolerate nails. My mother would have bemoaned the fact that she could not hang that little bunny on the wall any more. The carpenter took down that crooked nail. Well, that's all and good.

How long do I need to mourn her? The setting sun leaves me aloof and alone, too alone. I never thought being alone would be a problem.

I never decorate for Easter.