Sunday, October 30, 2022

 Quiet day. I awoke at 4:30 am, and it occurred to me to look in the garage for the dishes Ren inherited from his mother. Sure enough, they were still wrapped safely as they had been when he packed them up in 2006! Poor cousin! I’m not sure she’ll be thankful for all the things we’re passing on, but better to give them to her than the trash collector.

 Feelings of annoyance that Ren has died came over me several times today. Not at Ren himself, but at Luck, or God, or the Fates who took him from us. Sort of: “That’s enough! Now send him back!”

 My brother called. They will drive down on Thursday, so they can be here Friday noon for the “not funeral.”  We will place Ren’s urn in the niche. I will read a poem, “Funeral Blues” by W.H. Auden. Others will say something about Ren. I hope no tears. I’m afraid of starting and not being able to stop.

 Tomorrow I must take Ren’s last paintings into the Art Club show. He'd signed up, paid the entry fee, and fully intended to have them displayed. Then I went to the bank to get a cashier's check for Forest Lawn cemetery.

I must buy Thank You notes.

The busier I keep, the less I brood.