Mother died 18 days after her cancer diagnosis was confirmed by surgery. The doctors said she was like a house on fire. She was too young, only 57. I wasn’t quite 30. I was saving my work vacation days to help when the end came closer, but suddenly, on the Ides of March, she was gone.

The happy memory? When I got the news I came from Chicago, Michael came from Pittsburgh, and we were together with Susan and DOD (our father had taken to signing his letters DOD for Dear Old Dad). We were a clan, a tight family, designing a grave marker, deciding about the funeral details, crying but also laughing together. We spent time at the house: DOD wanted us to take things home with us. We worked companionably together. (Our only quarrel was over whose doll clothes were whose.) I feel bad for people in families who are broken by disputes over inheritance or other obstacles to healing in a time of bereavement.

JENNINGS
	Steve		Jane
	D.O.D.		The Mother
LOVE DOESN'T MAKE SENSE BUT IT'S ALL THERE IS.