Today is the fifty year anniversary of my father's death.  This was such a breaking point in my life I feel I must observe it in some way.  For a while, I had planned to take off work on this day, but obligations kept me from observing the day as a personal holiday.  I wonder if my mother, brother, and sister are aware of this significant turning point in our lives.

My grandfather told me that on the morning after my father's death he looked into his yard and saw the rose bush had bloomed outside the window.  It was beautiful, he had noticed.