Anniversary

The northern dweller had offered to go with me to my doctor's appointment.  She came early and fixed a few things I had asked her to do.  It's more annoying than tragic to be unable to put a sliding closet door back on its track, but it points up one of the "living alone" changes after widowhood.
I was a bit apprehensive about the body scan, but worried for nothing.  The doctor (actually physician assistant) found nothing suspicious aside from a rough patch on my nose which he hit with a spray of liquid nitrogen.  He did say to monitor a very small freckle on my leg to be sure it doesn't enlarge.
After, we stopped and got sandwiches, then took them back to my house for lunch.  Found on the porch a box from the florist company son Mike always uses containing a beautiful white azalea in a lovely porcelain container.  The card read: "Thinking of you on the 3rd anniversary of Dad's death.  Love from Mike and family." 
I had been reluctant to go to the cemetery and the n.d. suggested the lake, which I thought was a great idea.  We drove separately up there and had a thoroughly enjoyable few hours. I went in the water up to my waist, but although the lake was warm, the air wasn't, so I didn't immerse.  The N.D. invited me for dinner, but I was a bit tired and drove home after many thanks.
Got calls from Betty and others marking the day, as well as comments on Facebook.  Pat certainly isn't forgotten and won't be as long as his legacies survive.  And what are they?  The four precious children, three grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren who wouldn't be here if not for him.