I’m writing this on April 4. Got up this morning, grabbed the paper off the porch and filled a teakettle with water. When it boiled, I conjoined it with a tea bag of Earl Grey in a big mug and let it steep.

I decided to have a bowl of whole grain cereal, and added some Craisins for a little kick. I turned on the TV. I listened to the news while reading the news, and ate my cereal. I quickly worked the daily Sudoku puzzle.

It was Monday easy.

I turned off the TV, fired up my computer, answered some mail, and checked in on Facebook. I looked at the obituaries in my hometown paper.

A busy weekend is over, and I’m grateful for the prospect of a quiet day. Outside it is raining, raining, raining, but the big news today was the fact that we might have one sunny day … on Saturday! My feet are in pain, but the doc can’t figure out what’s wrong.

This morning I finally Googled or Binged or Asked the right question, and I actually found the answer! Unfortunately, the cure is moving to a warm, dry climate. Or I can learn to live with it. Yahoo.

I soaked my feet for a while, got dressed, and put on makeup. I decided to make some Irish salsa (tomatoes, cilantro, garlic, salt, but no peppers) to eat with a quesadilla. Had a nice glass of iced tea with lunch, and caught up on some reading. The rest of the day is for writing, so here I sit.

Tonight Lenny and I are going to have an impromptu house warming party for our younger son, Joe, at his new place. On the way I will pick up some fried chicken. I’m guessing it would be good to pack some napkins along with some “silverware” I have put aside for him. And I’ll make his favorite Chex Mix for a gift.

Why am I telling you about this utterly ordinary day in my life? Because today is the 25th anniversary of my mom’s death.

I never thought that the day would come when I would not have stinging tears just thinking about her. Twenty-five years ago I had driven to Butte, Mont., with two little ones. John was two, Joe was just nine months old. We got to the hospital a couple of days before she passed away, but in plenty of time to agonize with her through her painful death.

Tonight my husband and I, along with the men who are my children and our almost-daughter-in-law will toast someone they never knew. I will make sure they have a joyful image of their grandmother, my dear mom who was smart, funny, and faithful. Time really does heal, but healing is not forgetting.

Patty Luzzi has lived on the Eastside for 33 years. Readers can contact her at pattyluzzi@yahoo.com.