As I cleaned off the desk I came across her address.  Instant regret.

I didn't know her well but had wanted to write her a letter knowing she was dying.

I drive around, the blue sky allowing my thoughts to be bigger.

Lines from the poem "I tremble on the edge of a maybe" ring in my ears.

(Poem by Ted Loder)

I became smitten at the Cape.

So could not resist this house with the

abundant blue hydrangea.

Each summer again enamored.

It doesn't look like much.  Not much at all.  

But I see the cleaned out flower bed with green sprouting.

And a beginning.

Of days spent enjoying all that the brown dirt will bring.

Time spent with your Dad is always a good thing.

No matter how old you become.

As I finished braiding my hair I felt like myself.

We've lived in this house a long time and I should know.  

But every spring I am delighted to remember where bulbs are growing.