Celebration

I met them at the meeting: grandmother, mother and daughter with her own children. There were four generations of women coming. Mother was ill and still coming to help others. Mother was dying. There was a funeral. I didn't come, because I overlooked a notice in the paper. I didn't go, because I hate funerals and forgot to come for the living. After the funeral I asked: how was the funeral? "We celebrated her life." Copyright (c) Marie Neumann Pottsville, 11/1/2012