Today is Easter Sunday. Just yesterday Angela and I were in North Carolina. We got word that everyone was going to my mom’s house for a prayer for my dad. I debated going but we both decided that it would be best if I wen. With that, I took Angela’s car and drove to Virginia Beach. Angela, on the other hand, packed up the Jeep with a few things and the dogs and headed back to Northern Virginia.
My time in Virginia Beach was filled with reminiscing with aunts, uncles and family friends0 Luckily, there was only beer and no hard liquor to drown my sadness.
The prayer itself was more along the lines of a half hour chant. At that time I foung that I am like my father – rather actively participate I stood in the back and watched. I was content to be in the collective yet alone in my thoughts. The number of people at Mom’s house surprised me. There was well over 30 people there for the prayer.
Which brings us to Sunday. So far I’ve spent my morning with my mom and my middle sister as everyone else slept. We had a good conversation about what mom plans to do after this, like where she wants to live and whether or not she can afford to live in such a large house by herself. Or whether she even wanted to.
Everyone is getting ready to go to Church now. Like my dad, I’ll stay behind. I’ll be alone with my memories and my parent’s house in silence. It won’t be long until everyone returns and the place will be filled with the sounds of life again: mom, her children and her grand children talking and chatting and rumbling throughout the place.

It snowed in Virginia Beach and the weather is near freezing. My sister remarked, ‘This is so weird. There’s never been an Easter like this.’. She’s never been so right ton so many different levels.