November

“Did I do anything for your last birthday?” I asked Laurel this morning.

I honestly couldn’t remember. Laurel’s birthday and my mother’s deathday were too close together.

“Uh-huh,” she answered. “You made rice.”

Not really sure that will win me any parenting awards. Rice. In the microwave.

But it is one of her favorites.

November was a blur.

“Did I buy you any presents?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she answered. “Pajamas.”

At least it wasn’t socks and underwear.

Wait — maybe I got her those, too, and she was too polite to tell me.

I remember so little of that month.

Did we celebrate Thanksgiving? Did I make the turkey?

What did I do for the 30 days that November hath?

I looked through the pictures on my computer for clues.

Here is the story they told:

On the day my mother died, I noticed the sunset. IMG_7769 (1)

My sister and I helped my father.

Donabeth, Dad, and me

On Laurel’s birthday, I went for a walk.

The stone bridge

I made the previously mentioned rice — and some chicken to go with it. Broccoli, too, but it didn’t make the photo.

Birthday dinner

The kids played cards (probably while I was making rice).IMG_0340

And all through November, life continued.

Family gathered.

Jacob, Henry, Laurel

We played games.

Family games

I sat at the Columbarium.

The Columbarium

Laurel swam.

Swimming

I noticed a sunrise.

Sunrise

And I’m pretty sure we had Thanksgiving.IMG_7874

 

 

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