Tuesday, February 16, 2010

And now it's too late

Jeanette was always tired and always in pain. A consultation of experts and I couldn’t figure out why.

One afternoon, she napped in her rocking chair and never woke up. Still, she sang at her funeral; her recorded voice like an angel’s, husky and haunting. I didn’t know she sang. I never asked, she never said.

2 comments:

jeanmac said...

Very touching.

Cilicious said...

I wonder what was wrong with her?
It's lovely that she sang at her own funeral, though. That was the goodbye that she wasn't able to make.