We had been to church and to lunch afterward when Brenda called my cell phone.
"Hello", I answered.
"Hello, John." said Brenda. After some brief pleasantries, she said, "I didn't know if you would be interested, but your mother died this weekend."
On this day of August 24, 2009, I am thinking that this cannot be what it is like to write a "real" book. Apart from the mindful musings about life and death, fortune and fate, and the existential contemplations of the "big" questions - our relationship to one another as people, what life is all about, why are we here, who is your mother - aside from all of that nonsense, there is the "real time" aspect of these current words. It is surreal. It must be what it would be like to blog or twitter, if I were ever to do that. In three hours I plan to act on the above opportunity and go to my mother's funeral home where my genetic family is holding a reception. How do I feel about meeting my half-brothers and half-sister? News at eleven. Press pause. Page break.
Imogene Mae Clark Delaney Mathis Boyd Allen Aslinger
