Two Weeks' Notice

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So many lovely people have been enthusiastic and supportive, but I have to give a special shout-out to Sarah Weiss, whose eleventh-hour text messages were absolutely wonderful. Thanks for the candles, Sarah, particularly the one for Our Lady of Deadlines. I’m burning it at both ends!

And to my family and friends who suffered through the dreaded Deadline During Christmas again. Thanks for sticking with me. Again.

It was a perfect day for a funeral. Overcast, cool, no rain; sweaters, not coats. The wind was light and fresh, and although fall had arrived (as much as it ever did in California), the grass remained a bright jewel green.

From a purely objective perspective, it couldn’t have been better…though, in truth, Bryn Davis, funeral director, didn’t much care for the cemetery itself. This was a modern-style interment facility, so instead of picturesque Gothic headstones or marble sculptures, there were long expanses of lawn, spreading trees, and gently rolling hills—the impression of undisturbed nature, but oh so carefully created. Except for the recessed vases, some holding bright bouquets of flowers, it might have been a golf course. She wouldn’t have been at all surprised to see a cart roll over the hill and someone line up a difficult five-iron shot past the tent that covered the mourners and casket.

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