Last week, at this time, my Mom was getting ready to leave for her 1:30 p.m. appointment and today, she’s not here.
I’m overcome when I type those words.
I have already written the story of how I found out. Of what happened. I sat in the airport, with a 3-hour delay and two flights and typed and typed and typed.
I’ve talked to the funeral director.
I’ve talked to the coroner.
I’ve seen the car.
I’ve held the steering wheel.
I’ve touched the glass.
I’ve read the police report.
I’ve read the death certificate.
We wrote her obituary.
We found pictures.
I’ve read her wishes.
We’ve planned her memorial.
I spoke at Her memorial.
We celebrated her life.
And now, today, we move forward one minute-at-a-time.
Thank you for all of the love and support that you have given me in the last week. You’ve lifted my heart, prayed for my family and I’ve truly felt so, so cared for. The way I deal is through writing; I warn you of the impending somberness that Two Pretzels will more than likely hold for the next days; but I’m confident that in time, in the right time, the light and the airy and the funny and the random will creep back in because no one had a cooler personality than my Mom. Her wit, that humor, her laugh…
Her obituary is here.