My mother's spirit would be a quiet one. One which watches carefully and comments only to a few. All comments would be brief, conciliatory, friendly and humorous. More understanding than one might ever expect, patient to a fault, frightening when brought to an anger born of long tolerance of that which might be intolerable to a lesser being.

A lot like my most recent painful loss, Mr Sneeze the Black Lab who was hands down probably the single most sweetly devoted dog I might ever know. Except for Rosie, maybe. Rosie was a lovely long-skirted mixed breed Malamute, her coat pale with muted strawberry blonde fringes.

Gone, Mom, Sneeze, Rozie. All who loved me singularly. I am left feeling totally alone and unloved.

And to think that I wrote the above before I lost my youngest son. I had momentarily forgotten that he was still in my corner, my sweet, doggedly honest, brilliant, beautifully voiced son, Tommy John Scott Brown. No one can ever give me back the laughter he took with him when he left.