The night before the funeral

[warcat]

After I put R down to bed I went to visit M and her family at the neighbor's house where they were staying.  M wanted me to help stick photos of her mother on display boards.  The house was on a quiet, dark street in Arlington.  I could barely find it, even though it was just blocks away from M's house.  It was a large English cottage  The family who lived there had nine daughters, and their home was full of handmade antiques and pictures.  The mother's touch was everywhere, from the basement filled with toys for the grandchildren to the embroidered guest towels in the bathroom.  M's family and some friends were there. It hadn't occurred to me that I would go over there and see A, a friend from Canada.  Of course she had flown down. There are so many dots to connect with a death- so many reverberations.  I printed, trimmed, and mounted pictures on a pool table in the basement.   M had chosen all the pictures.  She came up and down the stairs, dealing with her own kids and making arrangements.  She seems to be the one in charge of everything.  After the kids were asleep she tried to practice reading her eulogy, wanting to make sure she would be able to get through the whole thing tomorrow. She spoke about how her mother had always listened to her and respected her opinion.  How she had been genuinely interested in other people, from the young to the old.

I want to remember the values I learned from F.  How important each person is.  How generosity springs from love.