In my absence -- and hers

The year following a bereavement is littered with stumbling blocks. Holidays and anniversaries catch at you like brambles.

But you probably know this.

So this weekend is a double-whammy:  Mother's Day.  And younger daughter's birthday.  This is the fifth time since younger daughter's actual birth, that both have coincided, but it's the first one since Demeter died.

We'll be okay.  So far, we've made it through Demeter's birthday, St David's Day, Valentine's Day (the day of Demeter's memorial service), my birthday, and elder daughter's birthday.

We also made it through Easter.

I had just recovered from my very first cold in over six years. (There were a lot of things I missed during the pandemic; having colds wasn't on the list.  I bloody loved not having colds.)

This meant I didn't make it over to my mother's condo for more than five days, and on Good Friday, I was finally well enough to go and resume sorting through her things, and water her plants.

Evidently, her Christmas cacti didn't know that it was Easter.