March Madness has different meaning in my world. It’s a month of getting by: enduring the final days before Winter turns to Spring.
And although California Winters have not be as wet and cold as Winters else where, March holds a different kind of darkness for us.
The other day, YaYa reminded me that not only did his father die in March; my own father died in March too.
YaYa asked, “Isn’t this the month I always seem to get really sick in?” I replied, “Yes, it is. But let’s try to make this year different.”