My mother passed away in her sleep earlier today, just about a month shy of her 95th birthday. A volunteer came to visit her and played "When the Saints Go Marching In" on a harp. Mom was out of it, but maybe on some level she heard the music and thought angels were welcoming her into Heaven. I wouldn't be surprised!
My sister Martha called to tell me. She also said Sue already has hotel rooms booked for us for next weekend. However, she still has to square this with the church. Mike suggested me flying, but there is no way I would do it a week before Christmas. I told him I would pay for a hotel if we get stuck halfway across Pennsylvania due to snow. I hope that doesn't happen, though.
I have to go to Calverton on Wednesday to discuss how to get her there. I'll be carrying her ashes back--another reason I don't want to fly.
I am sad but more nervous about getting there and doing the Calverton thing right. I have grieved off and on for months now--don't even get me started when I hear "Send in the Clowns," one of Mom's favorite songs!
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