March, the month for wearing green and thinking Spring forward thoughts.  This year, a month to celebrate my grandmother’s 97th birthday. Reflecting on the days when she lived alone and could still hear well.  Recalling our standing date—the Saturday morning call. 

I’d share a little about my week and she’d share details of hers with me. Mine took the form of a news bulletin straight off the wire. Where we’d been. What we’d done. Direct and without added flavor. No sparks of rising action, no point of climax, void of resolution.