We buried my great-aunt this weekend. Or more precisely, we sprinkled her ashes from the banks of the Missouri River, as she requested. The service went smoothly. The span of time between her death (in June) to now had softened the impact. The two and one-half months served as a cushion. I am sure most of us thought we had concluded our mourning in that time. At least I thought I had, until last night. Going through my son's backpack, we found the annual school picture order form. As usual, I sat down to make my list of names and photo sizes, and out of habit started to write down "Peggy". I couldn't finish the list. It was too hard to do it without her.
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