Good Friday

This was my Mother's favorite time of year.  She would show up on Easter with baskets filled with dog treats, some sort of lemon ice cream (my mother loved ice cream) and an eagerness to get out in my yard to weed.   Murphy would go outside with her, dropping her tennis ball near every weed trying to get my mom to throw it for her.  It was always a heartwarming scene.

Now, I think of her.  I miss my parents.  And it is a good Friday, because I can feel them all around me right now.

Murphy's Day.