One week

It’s about eight now; well, a little after, and I’m sitting here in my flannel pajama pants and a blanket around my shoulders. And at noon we’ll be heading out to go to the cemetery for the 1 pm service. It won’t take long. Then it will have been one week almost to the hour since Mother died here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse and when she was laid to rest beside her father in the old part of Oak Lawn in Sturgis, Michigan.

It will take some getting used to  this business of Mother having passed away. Yesterday, I found myself thinking I’d have to tell her about the surprise caller at the visitation . . . then I remembered.