Remember

I remember Delores, and Chris, and why it didn't work out. I remember the max setting for a pediatric IV infusion is 100 cc/hour. I remember until I don't sleep, and it's 4 in the morning, and I'm sitting in the living room, in the dark, about to have a cup of coffee, and there's a tear threatening to leak. I'm slightly hungover from my Presidente Margarita and glass of wine last night, and I'm dreading today and tomorrow. It's only appropriate her funeral would be Easter weekend. Easter was always her holiday. The spread of food laid out in her garage, the games of Poker that would follow. I'm not sure why I thought that would ever end. I want to know what will happen to her house. Just another house in Shelby that will become a symbol of "remember when" like Grandma Norma's and our old house on 10th Ave. Will our poker games be the same? I don't know how they can be. Will Grandma be okay? I'm so afraid of her losing her will, and giving up. I'm not sure I can stand losing her. Delores is the herald sign; we're not all going to be around forever...things don't stay the same. The petty squabbling and minor grievances aren't worth it. Delores was the first one to forgive, the first one there when someone needed help. Holiday get togethers just won't be the same without her. I'm going to miss her smile. Good-bye Delores...thank you for being such a wonderful woman. 

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
― Maya Angelou