Just when I think I’m doing okay, I have a day where images and memories of my niece explode inside. I miss appointments, and put the wrong dates on flyers, and question if it’s my brain or if I’m just sad.
I think I’m sad. The memorial services are over now. There is nothing else for the family to do for her. I think about my brother and her mother. She called them every day, even before cancer. When the phone rings, do they momentarily forget and think it’s her? I think about her husband, who posted pictures of the work he did in their yard on Facebook. He said he used to make her come and see what her hard working man had done, and she always acted impressed. Now his friends and family are impressed, but we know it isn't the same.
And last night at a gathering, a friend unknowingly, sang the children’s prayer she loved…the one all two hundred of us sang as a call and response at the graveside service. “I am…I am…a tiny seed, planted in the soil of His love…”
I know we'll be fine. But damn.
My niece & her husband's picture that was published in an LA Culture Magazine. It was their version of American Gothic. Those that know them, know they were close to cracking up.
Her hometown newspaper did a feature article the day after her memorial. A reporter called my brother after he read the submitted obituary: