March 17th

March 17th used to be St. Patrick's Day, the day to wear green and remember the fact that some of my ancestors were Irish. 

March 17th used to be the day Callie the cat was born, in a box in our one bedroom apartment in Atlanta, one month after we adopted her mom Sophie. 

March 17th is still those things, but now it's also the day that my dad died.  I don't want that fact to be tied to that day.  It's been 2 years now. 

Last year my husband was off work, my mom took off work, and both my sisters and my nephew were able to come in and visit.  And we all spent the day together.  We planted a tree, but it appears to not have made it. 

This year it fell on a Saturday, and Mom, S, and I went to a neighboring town and played Bingo at a charity event for the Humane Society that I had adopted Pearl through 2 weeks earlier.  We had a good time, and we laughed.  I bought my mom a bouquet of flowers, and I bought another bouquet to put on my dad's grave. 

And that was enough.