Done

I have poached this photograph from Steph's site without her permission. I hope she forgives me. I love the picture. The smile is vintage Mrs. X. She's really happy here, you can tell. Though I suspect that if she knew that Steph and I were spreading this picture around the internet we'd be getting an earful.

She died yesterday with her family around her and her cat at her feet.

I'm not going to Florida. I'm going to go to her memorial instead. I want to see Steph and Bud. Selfishly, too, I'm going because I won't be done, I won't feel the end of it, of her, if I don't go. I don't understand how the pioneers did it. I was watching Carnivale the other night and a member of the troop is killed. They bury her in the town where she died. Then they move on to the next town. No grave to visit. A lot of the people in the troop have left their families. Imagine someone going on tour and never coming back, never knowing where they're buried, not having the body returned to you. I don't know if I'd ever feel the person was gone.

They did something else in the episode, though, something I loved. Each member of the troop placed something of importance to them in the grave with the deceased. A dress, a pocket watch, a trading card, a scarf, a doll, things to send her off comfortably and well provided for. When I was 17 and my maternal great grandmother died I was charged to ride from the funeral home to the grave site with my great aunt and uncle. This meant I had to wait at the funeral home with my large, distraught great aunt while she finished her business with the funeral director. I was there when he handed Aunt Catherine a paper bag containing Grammy's wedding ring, her glasses and other personal effects. I was horrified. How would she see? Had she ever taken her wedding ring off before? Why would someone take it off now? I would have liked to have given her something to take with her instead but that wasn't an option.

I wish Mrs. X speed and peace. I miss her terribly.