My brother and sister and I went to Uncle Fred's funeral last week and sat in my father's pew. We didn't grow up with Victorian era Church of England assigned seating. We grew up with women on the left and men on the right, everybody singing four-part a cappella harmony. You don't need a piano… Continue reading Dad’s Seat
Category: Grief
Between
I went to a funeral yesterday. I'll go to a funeral tomorrow. Two uncles died last week, one from each side of the family. I'm sad. Part of me feels like I'm making too much of it. One was 80, one 94. Both had been sick. Neither death was exactly a surprise. But I think… Continue reading Between
The Flowered Shirt
I was wearing a flowered shirt when my sister told me that our mother was dying. I was definitely wearing something on the bottom half of my body — possibly a denim skirt — but only the shirt is there in my memory, vivid and bold. I’d never worn it before, and had hung it… Continue reading The Flowered Shirt
That Hat
I was in the grocery store checkout line when a woman caught me eyeing her husband. She seemed curious rather than irritated, but I figured I should explain myself. “That hat,” I told her, nodding at her husband. “My dad always wore a hat like that.” Her husband turned around and smiled. “Like this?” he… Continue reading That Hat
Two Minutes
Mrs. Sabo pulled me aside when I went up to the front of the room to sharpen my pencil. I thought I was in trouble. I always think I’m in trouble. I’m halfway through my forties, and when the teachers send a note home that they want me to come to a conference I think… Continue reading Two Minutes