Palm Sunday

This is a strange time of year. March 29th is K's mother's birthday. I had been thinking about it all week, but was afraid to mention it. He mourns pretty quietly. And it's a complicated set of feelings. In so many ways we were very glad to see her go, to see her finally released from the body that had been a cage to her for so many years. And yet, no matter how much she suffered, she loved life, celebrated life, and so it is hard to imagine her not living. It's what she did.

I think that the thing that means the most to him, perhaps, of anything anyone has ever said to him was the last thing she said to him. As we were leaving the city where she lived, six hours away from our home, as we were taking her granddaughter from her and from her daughter, she took K's hand, pulled him in close and spoke. "You're a good boy." What an amazing last thing to have your mother say. We knew that it was probably the last time we'd ever see her, and, indeed, she was gone within a few months.

Looking back on the last two years I think it's so interesting that Easter-time is the anniversary of when we brought VeeGee home and the anniversary of our last time with K's mom. Truly a death and rebirth. I think she would be very happy to see how VeeGee thrives. How happy she is. I know that there was a great amount of sorrow around the situation and, of course she'd have wanted VeeGee to stay there with them instead of coming here. But I hope that somehow, in those last few months of her life, she knew that VeeGee would be okay. I think she did.