My mother died 14 years ago today, after a very brief illness.  We knew that she wasn’t going to make it, and her death was merciful, but the feeling I had that morning comes back every year on March 23.  And the pain returns again.

Today, as I have for the past fourteen years, I will read Morning Prayer and say a few prayers for the repose of Mom’s soul.  My sister Beth will take daffodils from her yard to place on Mom’s grave.

And we will go about our daily lives, for that is what one does.

But the day will be a bit darker for the memory of that day in 1998, and for the loss we still feel, keenly and deeply.

Rest in peace, Mom.

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