Maybe So

"Will you send me a sign?" my aunt asked my mother as she held her hand in the hospital.

"Yes," my mom answered without hesitation.

"Can you tell me what it will be?" her sister asked.

"You'll know it when you see it," Mom said.

And it seems to be true. A few hours after my mom died we saw three rainbows on our way back to the Twin Cities from Rochester.

"It's the trinity," said my aunt.

"It's one for each of you three kids," someone else told us later.

So, maybe? We have been seeing signs all week. Any silver lining or lucky break feels like a message from my mom telling us we're all going to be all right and she is, too. 

Dressing for the Occasion

"I refused to pack funeral clothes," my sister sighed when I picked her up from the airport on Saturday to take her down to Rochester where my mom was in the hospital.

"Bill doesn't have any either," I told her about my brother who had arrived the day before.

We both teared up because we knew they would need them, and probably much sooner than anyone expected.

As for me, when I had flown out to Minnesota a couple of weeks earlier it was because I was gravely concerned about my mom, but the thought of dressing for a funeral never entered my mind.

And so today, I found myself shopping for just such an outfit. Heidi and my sister went with me, and the three of trolled through several sections in the ladies' department at the Macys across the street from my mom's condo. Our group effort turned up a nice pair of black slacks with a raised velvet pattern and a fitted black sweater with a rhinestone-adorned peter pan collar. It was definitely a departure from my usual look, but as I scrutinized my reflection I nodded at myself in the mirror. "Mom would have liked this outfit," I said. "I'll take it."

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.