My mother is dead. It is hard to believe and seems cold to write. But I have to write about it.

On Tuesday, Amelia and I did some shopping. We visited antique stores looking for cane-bottom chairs for a show she is working on. If we found the perfect ones at a very low price, it would be worth shipping them to New York. But mostly we just like looking at things for sale and honing our taste. We picked up Ray and came home. We ate a salad. She went with Kevin and we picked up my parents and drove to see a Gwinnett Braves game. We had a lovely time, if you don't mind eating junk food. The ice cream cones were refreshing, because it was 90 degrees, even at night. We took them home again at 10:30 or so. My Mom seemed fine, happy and healthy, in fact, better than the last time we had been there.

Yesterday morning, I woke up at 3:30. The power had been off for a while already and it was quiet and hot. I wandered around the house, opening the windows (it was a tiny bit cooler out, but humid). I could see stars; there as no thunderstorm. About 5, I lay down and was falling back asleep, when everything came on, noisily. The phone rang. It was my Dad. "Something terrible has happened. It's your mother." I woke Ray and Amelia and we drove to the apartment. The ambulance had been and gone. She was dead. He said she gave a gasp that woke him up. He called out to her and touched her, and he knew immediately she was dead. There was a policeman there and the coroner came. They wanted to know what funeral home we wanted to use. I had no idea. I have never looked into funeral homes. The only thing I could say is there are black ones and white ones in Athens. Amelia said Gloria had been researching them, so she called and woke her up. Bernstein, she said. So that's what we said.

We did a lot of waiting, a little gathering up of things to take to our house for my Dad. Ray washed some of the dishes. My Dad was in shock. All day, he said, "I can't believe it's real. I don't know what I'm going to do." I said, "you'll keep doing the things you've been doing." He said, "I can't even make my own breakfast." But he made coffee and we made some toast. Apparently, we could still eat. They came from the funeral home and took her away. I took her watch and rings first, and touched her hair and arm. The others didn't want to look at her body.

We went back to the house, with my Dad and a few things--toothbrush, clean underwear, pills. We started making phone calls--Molli, my sisters, my aunts...the Fellowship about a service. Many people expressed sympathy and offered help. My Dad went to the doctor and got some sleeping pills. Amelia drove him around and cleaned the house and cooked. We ate some delicious curry that she made.

Bonney and her family arrived, talked, and ate. I took them to Nancy's house and walked back. I admired the sky and clouds and the trees in the dark and was pleased with my chosen community. I slept pretty well, except woke a little early.