Winding Down

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The funeral is at 2 p.m. After that, it all goes to the lawyers, who will make a thin meal of it except on us.

There's no money left. But that doesn't mean there won't be a fight over a china plate, a corner cabinet, a mug shaped like a burgher's head.

E. has the advantage of not wanting anything except some of the stuff we gave Mom, though personally I've always had my eye on that burgher's head.

So Far So ... What?

Duelling wills, the new one placed in E.'s hand after the visitation tonight. Cue the music. Play us off, cat.

So Far So Good IV

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A very good day in that E. seems to be navigating a straight path between her two sisters Scylla and Charybdis and, in fact, is handling things very well. However, I'm starting to get a little frayed, though it may simply be the result of someone doing a little hit-and-run on the front fender of the rented car. But this is the first time I've had a rental dinged in 40 years, so it was undoubtedly due.

Otherwise, it's just wear and tear. Let me use a baseball metaphor. I'm the catcher -- the hitless wonder -- who has come in to catch the knuckle-baller. There are a lot of bad hops, but I'm getting my body in front of them and taking them off the torso, the arms, the mask. I believe I am developing a case of cumulative woe.

And it's too hot, and I'm not sleeping, and I'm trying to keep up with email, but I'm going to come back home 10 days behind in grading. Also, I have no idea it will take to sell this damn house -- which we will need to do because of the reverse mortgage we got in Mom's name -- and we'll have to pay all the incidentals to maintain the house, and that includes paying a sister to stay in it. We could rent, of course, but wouldn't it be quicker just to blow it up ourselves?

A slow day in a hot and humid place.

So Far So Good III

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I guess that I am now the family patriarch if the patriarch is the one who pays for everything. I don't even blink. Of course, E. would have retired five years ago if it weren't for family, and she makes more than I do, which makes me a bit of an imposter, perhaps a usurper.

But it's the South, Big Daddy country, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, etc. So patriarch it is.

With the role comes responsibilities. If no one else sasses the waitresses -- this is the South and they expect to be sassed -- I must do the sassing, though it's probably more bluster than sass, a kind of post-sexual bluffing.

Again: It's the South. One blends. Also, one overtips, if one is a patriarch, particularly a sassy one.

In addition to eating large portions at chain restaurants, today we went to the cemetery to look at the grave site. In doing so, we destroyed, or at least drastically reconfigured, a family myth. I've been telling people for years that Mom was one of those thrifty seniors who when burying a mate and having a tombstone carved some years ago, saved a nickel by having their birthdate carved in, plus the first half of the year of their demise: 19--.

But that's not so! The gravemarker is bronze, and the birth/death dates are bolted on, detachable. E. swears, however, that Mom did have her first two digits done back there 20 years ago, that at minimum Mom did have her little bronze plate done with a "19" on it. E. swears she saw it, saw that "19" and that it must have been stamped on a bronze plate, and that plate is now missing, probably unbolted sometime early in 2000 when the cemetery folk did not want to be reduced to a laughingstock.

It was a good myth. Losing it has taken some of the fun out of all this. I think I need to refer to someone else as Big Red and give them a 20 percent tip.

Oh something else. Everyone -- and I do mean everyone -- if they choose to comfort us say some variation on, Now she's in a better place.

No I don't have the stones to answer Yes, on Amazon Island with Wonder Woman and the Goddess at last.

So Far So Good I

Just listened in on a call between E. and Esther and Mom's minister. This is sad, but my reaction to preachers is usually: And just how full of crap are you? But this guy is good. That is, he has obviously done lots of funerals and lots of grief counseling, and he knows how to ease the hearts of those in emotional need.

Two problems:

* Mom laid out exactly what she wanted done at her funeral -- hymns, etc. There were apparently multiple copies of her preferences, but no one can find any of them. The preacher was very good at reassuring "the girls" that whatever they decided would honor Mom and make her happy.

* What to do about pallbearers! E. still remembers her dad's funeral 20 years ago when the family members -- cousins and nephews -- who were chosen to bear the casket were so old and feeble they almost dropped him. I (I overheard) am considered pretty old and feeble, and I may be the best of the eligibles. But the preacher said he could find church members to cover as needed. (I am tempted to say something about muscular Christianity.)

By the way, as I tell E., all this family nonsense of the moment -- nonsense I will leave richly vague; just let me say there are other sisters -- all of it just doesn't matter. The job has been done. The job was done brilliantly. The job was taking care of mom during her last difficult six years -- oh, the cash flow, and now all the money gone and no God in heaven to give us credit for it -- and now the job is over.

We have been good and faithful servants. Cool.

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Florida

Well, mom died, and we are in Florida. So far so good in the sense that tensions that will probably arise when sisters are in proximity have been avoided by keeping sisters out of proximity. Let's see how long I can keep that up.

Graveside wrestling. There's the reality TV people want to see.

Mom died okay, lying there with her daughter beside her. Esther said that mom's breathing was labored but regular. And then there was a breath followed by quite a long pause before the next breath. Esther said she urged Mom to *breathe*. But she didn't.

Nine-eight and one-half years is a long time, some of it remarkable But that's something E. needs to write about, herself being one of the more remarkable aspects.