From Heaven

Aunt Kay's Funeral Mass

Kay's daughters asked us to wear red in celebration of a woman who

lived her life as a faithful servant to God, a loving wife and mother,

and a woman who shared laughter. Red was her favorite color.

My Mother is ninety this year. We embarked upon the cross country trip.

American Airlines lost her walker in the first leg. It appears there is no longer 

assistance for the disabled. With connecting flights to Harrisburg and 

forty four minutes to run in the terminal with the bag of rocks my mom packed,

it's a miracle we made it.  I perfected the habit of stealing idle Delta Airlines

wheelchairs. The contract employees who work in airports are called 

by walkie talkie from the gate guards. They don't communicate. 

(Delta abandons their wheelchairs in American terminals is another layer of why America is terminally disorganized.)

Imagine me running, pushing the wheelchair with my tiny Mom gesturing

while carrying one of her bags and rolling two behind. The suitcases swinging.

It worked out with a little sweat.

The funeral mass was upbeat. Reuniting with cousins on the east coast

was the highlight. 

The next day I took my Mom to Wildwood Park to enjoy the birds and Fall colors. 

In front of the nature center a thoughtful person planted a row of winterberry

bushes perhaps more than fifteen years ago. They sang in the sunshine while 

yellow leaves floated to the ground. I'm sharing the glow of crimson with you.

Aunt Kay prays for you from heaven with this warmth.