interment

My brother flew east to stay with me for the week. It was great to have him here, to see him, to just be together.  However his trip had a purpose. He came, so together, we could inter Mom's ashes in the family plot.
 
When Mom died in March, the ground was still frozen, and this cemetery does not open graves in winter. We had to wait.

So together with my husband, sons, daughter-in-law, and our new granddaughter, we buried Mom's ashes. Just the seven of us sharing our thoughts, memories, poems, and songs while circled around a small wooden box.

I wasn't going to cry, I had already cried a river of tears, but they could not be stopped.

Our kids were there with comforting arms, their strength, their youth, their love. Our granddaughter was there with her new-found ability to giggle and laugh. My husband, my rock, keeps me from falling apart.

And my brother, thank you for being my brother, I am so very thankful, for you.

If I Should Go by Joyce Grenfell

If I should go before the rest of you
Break not a flower nor inscribe a stone
Nor when I'm gone speak in a Sunday voice
But be the usual selves that I have known
Weep if you must
Parting is hell
But life goes on
So sing as well.

book review

I couldn't put it down. I couldn't. Her story is so familiar and so sad. She tells it with such clarity, strength, and honesty.

"Slow Dancing with a Stranger: Lost and Found in the Age of Alzheimer's" by Meryl Comer.

Thank you Meryl for your words and for your advocacy.

"I don't want anyone to have to be like me."  pg 172