Another day of goodbyes for us and Mom. Her church had an in-person, socially-distanced service inside for the first time in a year. The pastor had special words to honor Mom’s last day in their congregation. During the service I thought about the days when Dad was the preacher there 30 years ago, and where we celebrated his life at a memorial service on a hot August day in 2013. Mom will not have a memorial service there. After the Palm Sunday service, we gathered outside in the cold, blustery morning while folks lined up to say goodbye to Mom. So many wonderful people at that church who have been great friends to my parents for decades. Everyone will be missed. I thought she’d be crying, but I was the one bawling my eyes out. A young woman played the bagpipes. Afterward we did a drive-by of the other two houses where Mom and Dad lived during their time here. We also drove by our family home where we lived in the late 1960s–and the street where I learned to ride a bike without training wheels at the age of six. Sadly, I didn’t listen to Mom, who was chasing me down the street telling me how brake by pushing back on the pedals. So, thrilled with my newfound ability to balance and fly, but terrified I couldn’t stop, I crash landed in a ditch (still there and still just as deep), crotching myself on the bike frame. 

We invited one of Mom’s best friends, Kaye, to our Airbnb for Sunday lunch and to say farewell. Her husband and Dad were good buddies for years; he died a year before Dad. The couples used to go to dinner and a movie every Friday night. We siblings enjoyed going with them whenever we visited. Later, I took Mom back to her apartment and then spent a couple hours with a childhood friend of mine, who’s lived here since college. We get together about half the time I come to Indy; who knows when we’ll see each other again.

Finally finished my pilot script for the television series proposal and emailed it to the Hollywood producers who requested it. Come on, Hollywood. Mama needs a new handbag!