Afterwards, by Jim Woessner
For twenty minutes we argued about where to park in the cemetery. Nothing had changed in our relationship except for her death. Afterwards, I took him to lunch where he talked about church, the grandkids, how many of his friends had died, and how much he missed Mom. In the afternoon, we sat quietly in the backyard. Later that night, there was television and the silence of things never discussed. Before I left the next day, he cried. He said that last year’s stroke prevented him from holding back his tears. I never imagined being thankful for such a blessing.
2/5/2020 01:44:21 am
Enjoyed this. We're in an environment when we all need to count all our blessings.
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