How it Should Have Been

In my former life, I would have been cussing this afternoon because I scheduled a dentist appointment on the day before conferences. It would have seemed like a gigantic headache to manage such conflicting demands upon my time, but walking up to the dentist and then back to school would have cleared my head. By the end of the day I would have been prepared for conferences commencing at 7 AM with sparkling clean teeth.

In my new reality, I placed an order with the caterer for lunch for 100 guests in the church reception hall following my mom's funeral and spent a couple hours putting a slideshow of photos together for the memorial. And in this life, I bought four copies of the local paper because her obituary was published today. And I read the outpour of wonderful comments and remembrances of her on Facebook after we shared the news that we lost her.

On either timeline, I have Heidi by my side, and thank the heavens today I also have my sister and brother and sister-in-law and aunt.

More Words, but Never Enough

Beloved mother, sister, grandmother, and friend passed away October 21, 2019.

She is survived by her daughters, Tracey (Heidi) and Courtney (Jordan), her son, Bill (Emily), her sister Harriett (Larry), and her grandchildren Victor, Treat, Richard, and Annabelle.

Born in 1939 to Ada and Frank Riley, Fran grew up in Greenbelt, MD. She was a resident of Bloomington and Edina for the last 25 years, where she pursued a rewarding career in public affairs which allowed her to connect and contribute to the community.

Fran traveled all over the world and loved cooking for her family of friends. In retirement, she continued to serve the community as a volunteer, most notably as a kindergarten reading buddy at Valley View Elementary School, Oasis for Youth, and the Book’em used book sale.

Her family and friends grieve the loss of Fran, but know how lucky we were to have had her in our lives. We will miss her.

There will be a visitation with family on Monday, October 28, at 10 AM at St. Joan of Arc Catholic Church in Minneapolis with a mass to follow at 11 AM. In lieu of flowers, her family asks that donations be made in her name to a charity of your choice, or to one of the causes she supported: Fraser, Oasis for Youth, or St. Joan of Arc Outreach Fund.

Four Words

I love you, Mom.

No Words

Back and Forth Again

This afternoon I made my third run from Rochester to the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport in as many days. 150 miles round trip on rolling highways through farm fields and prairie, over streams and rivers, and dairy plants and a refinery, the round trip takes about two and a half or three hours. It was worth every minute on the road to get my brother, my sister, and my aunt down here to see my mom in the hospital.

Plus my fondness for both this part of the country and road trips is well-known in the family. "Just think," my brother told my mom today, "when Tracey and Heidi retire to Rochester, Tracey can make a little extra cash running an airport shuttle!"

That got a smile.

Long-Distance Dining

I was lying on the couch in my mom's hospital ring when my phone chimed with a text: Your dasher is approaching with your order, it read. The delivery guy in question, however, was approaching my front door in Virginia, where Heidi, Emily, Riley, and Treat had gathered and ordered takeout for dinner.

A moment later my phone rang. The dasher? was confused by the house numbers in our complex. "Oh, you're not too far, off," I told him, and gave him a little more precise direction.

It was another Ding! a minute later that assured me the food was there, and dinner was served. Bon Appetite! you guys.

Birds of Prey

In addition to being a world-class health care facility, he Mayo Clinic is home to a Peregrine Falcon nesting box. Early today, I told my brother Bill the story that a friend of my mom's who works here at the clinic told us.

"My office window faces south," he said, and the designers of the building back in the 1950s engineered these clever metal louvres to keep the building from betting too hot in the summer. The only problem is, the falcons like them too, and every so often there are gruesome little bird parts hanging outside my window."

Bill and I looked way up to the top of the Mayo Building. "I guess they're up there," I shrugged. "I'm not sure when and if they migrate."

A little later in my mom's hospital room, Bill walked quickly over to the window and looked up. "I saw two little feathers float down," he said, "but no Falcons are up there."

A little while later after that, he went down to the street level and outside to smoke. Back up here, he reported his own gory little finding: a pair of wings lying on the sidewalk, connected only by sinew and feathers.

I'd guess that means the falcons are still in town.