On Our Way to the Memorial

We waited in the hotel courtyard for our parents, ready to leave. My sister Amy wore a long navy skirt and curls in her hair.

Her twins, also in dresses, danced down the sidewalk. We chased after them.

One stopped at Amy’s feet. “You look like a princess, Mommy,” she said. She is three and full of sweetness like that.

“Thank you,” Amy said. We did look ready for a party. The memorial for our Aunt Jan turned out to be like one. We sat in a ballroom at round tables. We listened to speeches about Jan’s life. We visited with Jan’s husband, daughters, son, and grandchildren. We ate cake. We ate cookies–ginger snaps, oatmeal raisin, peanut blossoms–baked by Jan’s daughters. They served them to honor their mom, a woman who always kept her cookie jar full of homemade goodness.

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