Get up and greet the dogs, make breakfast for the family, shovel, black squirrels playing in a tree, a crow calls out, walk a dog (delegated the rest to the kids, yeah me), tromping through unadulterated snow, the sky rains frozen tears.  Everything continues. Seems the same, not the same.

It is the day after my Mom’s memorial service.  A life read out, heartfelt remembering, a collection of individuals brought together by a single person. Stories, hugs, tears, catching up, reconnection.  A pause in time.  We make everything stop for that moment, then the next day comes.  Things have changed but not.  The complicated relationship doesn’t end, just the hope for resolution even if it was an impractical hope.  The stuff put on hold for that moment comes rushing back.  Reflection echoes.  If I have only so many years, days, minutes how do I want to live them?  What is important?  How do I want my life celebrated?  What do I hope for my family?  People came to my mom’s memorial that didn’t know my mom, they came for me.  That was awesome and huge and I wonder if I am as good of a friend as they are to me?  How fortunate I am to know these people.

Doors squeak open, snap shut.  Dog nose bashing my elbow.  Lunch needs to be constructed…