Last night my parents came over and we celebrated my Dad's 70th birthday, and my mom's 68th.
The celebration was muted, certainly, and at the end of the meal I cried into what was left of my salad.
The decision on when to cremate my grandmother's body is upon us, and there was some uncertainty about whether or not I wanted to see her body before they did it.
It's so irrational, but there's a part of me that wants to rush over there and see her in a sherbet-green cardigan, sitting in her wheelchair and telling the guy who cremates people, "Oh, you're so beautiful! I love the way you stand so straight!"
People call to talk or I see the checker at Target and I don't really have anything to say. Usually it's me striking up the conversation, handing out a "how do you do" and "let's have lunch", but right now I've got absolutely nothing.