The blue skies and white earth put me in mind of the Blessed Mother. On this day 35 years ago, we celebrated a mass for my dad. As it happened, it was our school's weekly 8:30 mass, and that morning, I, my older sister, and my mom brought up the offertory gifts.
My brother was originally supposed to be the third, but he had chicken pox, which felled the rest of us that weekend.
My poor mom. Recently widowed with 5 itchy kids under the age of 11. February was the cruelest month that year.
Dad would have been 72 this past Sunday. On August 30 this year, he will be dead longer than he was alive.
And not for nothing, my friend Haydee is also in my thoughts this week. Her hubby's birthday was last week. I miss all of them, but I have to respect the realities of that situation. I carry all of them in my heart, even though they are by and large gone from my life.
Oddly, I don't feel sad. It's a beautiful day, and my heart is light.