Aujourd'hui, maman est morte.

[Rev. Rye]

It took a while before I made up my mind as to whether or not to tell you this, but my mother died yesterday. Of course, if you can read French or just knew enough about Camus, you probably guessed that already. She died in her sleep. My dad and I aren't really sure about what the cause of death was; it doesn't seem to be just one illness so much the culmination of several illnesses (ranging from the flu to fibromyalgia to just plain repeated accidental overdose on high blood pressure meds.) The death was sudden. I didn't have the best relationship with my mother; especially near the end, we just couldn't relate to each other and, as it turns out, she had some severe personality disorders (histrionic and narcissistic) for decades.

She didn't have any plans for this eventuality, so me and Dad have to do it. We're having her cremated (she'd probably be more afraid of being worm chow than being ashes in an urn), but we're not sure what to do with the ashes; we're torn between scattering the ashes on her parents' grave and in Door County and turning them into some sort of decorative art (we're not sure of the exact design).

If you're in the Chicagoland area this Saturday morning and feel up to going to a (Lutheran, fairly liberal FWIW) church, PM me and I'd tell you the location and time of her upcoming funeral.