When Spring comes round nowadays, it brings a family melancholy with it. We remember my Dad in early May, celebrating his birthday and mourning his loss sixteen years ago. My brother’s birthday is sandwiched between those two days, now always a bittersweet celebration for him. And when the Spring aubretia blooms here in the Northwest, I am always reminded of my mother’s rocky mountain garden and the family home. Her aubretia made people stop their cars to take a closer look. Now I’m the one who will pull over the car so that I can take a closer, contemplative look at the aubretia in a stranger’s garden. The aubretia bloom doesn’t last long, but when it blossoms, I savor all those happy and melancholy Spring memories it triggers.