I wonder, “How could we possibly honor Mom after she dies?” Then a video clip surfaces of our rehearsal on the morning of my father’s memorial.
Assuming she must die someday, we’ll gather in flesh and virtually. After all the years of celebrating life together and with weeks of “sister calls” girding us, we will love each other in death too.
Now though, as pandemic fog clears, I’ve taken her to the dentist. She is more available today, happy to be amongst others and telling me wild stories about what is happening in her daydreams.