Marilyn was a family gal through and through, and she worked at being a good mother-in-law.
Today the grandkids and I buried one of the baby scrub jays that live in the tall line of arborvitae lining the upper edge of our backyard.
My mind lingers on death more often these days. I tell Alan that if I become too demented and disabled he should smother me with a pillow, but he hasn't agreed. How about a commemorative plaque on a bench instead?