I could not stop crying last night. I tried. I tried calling people. I tried writing. I emailed many people. I tried everything. I could not stop.
Today, the sun is warm. I found myself laughing. I started to get nervous about what to wear to my mother's memorial service. A lot of people will be there. The "Dance of the Swans" will be played.
Walter said to me, maybe you should see if you could borrow Bjork's dress.
A faux swan wrapped around me. Yes, Walter, that would be so much better than the traditional black suit.
That would make my mother laugh. The story, that is. Not actually doing it. That would make her promise to haunt me.
I feel calm again.
My mother's breathing has changed significantly. It is long and slow. There is a rattle. Her face, I am told, shifted earlier. She's not there anymore.
It's almost time.