Our city got a short reprieve from winter this weekend. The winds shifted to the south and for three lovely days we had spring-like weather instead of the bone chilling cold we normally experience in late January. It did a lot to lift my spirits and bring me out of the grief-funk of the past two weeks.
Despite the better weather and my elevated mood, my mind has been cycling through the last weeks of my mother’s life. Did we do enough or give up too soon? Was there something we missed that should have been seen? Was there malpractice by one or more of the doctors?
And even though these thoughts keep creeping into my conscious mind, I know in my heart that it was her time to go. All the would have/could have/should have’s don’t make a bit of difference in retrospect. It’s over. It’s done. It’s time to move on.
So I shall swing my legs out of bed tomorrow morning, fully aware that the winds are predicted to swing back around and cover us in a blanket of winter weather again. The blue skies will turn back to a sad, flat gray, the temperature will plummet back to the southern end of the thermometer and I…
I will cling to the memories of a winter weekend full of blue skies, warm breezes, and my mother’s smile.