Inappropriately Appropriate

Mom: Who did you love more, me or your dad?

Me: I love you both the same. You are both special to me.

Mom: Whatever, the dead one always wins.

Mom: (Talking to my aunt and uncle after my dad died) Well, you guys are just dropping off like flies. I wonder which one of you will be next? (awkward silence).

Friend: How's your mom handling everything?

Summer: She is ok, but no matter what it's different for her. We knew the father, she knew the man himself.

Mom: I really did love your dad. He was my best friend. Yeah, he was an asshole sometimes. But I know he loved me too.

Me: You know it's amazing that dad died and was able to leave so much love and positive energy between all of us. He really knew what he was doing.

Me: What are you thinking about?

Mom: Your dad. I keep thinking about him with his cigarette in his hand with one leg over the other. It's hard to believe he is no longer here. I keep going over things, wondering if I did anything wrong.

Me: You can't think like that mom, he loved us. That's all that matters in the end.

Me: I thought this would be so much harder. But I feel his energy and his love and it's giving me so much strength.

Mom: I just talked to your aunt today back in Palestine and she says that a lot of people came to your dad's funeral. She said that everyone was really sad and kept talking about what a great man he was. That made me so happy, he would have liked that.