A year ago, my mother passed away. The other day my brother, sister, Chris, Bandit, and I honored her memory by spreading some of her ashes under a tree in my backyard.
I look out at this tree everyday, when I sit here and write. Frequently, a pair of cardinals comes by. I like to think of them as my parents checking in on me from above.
Rick Bettencourt 
thank you for sharing this tender matter.