1) Last Christmas I gave Mother a Mary Engelbreit calendar with a page a day. She had really gone beyond wanting “things” for presents, and after you use a calendar, you usually don’t save it, right? My sister pointed out to me what the calendar page said for Friday, February 1, the day Mother died: “My train of thought derailed. There were no survivors . . . Today’s the day…to clear your mind.”
1a) The day of the funeral it read “Today’s the day…to be unstoppable.” And we had to be, and we were.
2) Mother had also saved all her Chinese fortune cookie fortunes (I used to do this, too, and for all I know Mother did it because I suggested it to her), and the day of the funeral Laura made me draw one from the ramekin in which Mother kept them. It said something like “It takes strength to do something you would rather not do.” And of course I had to deliver the eulogy that afternoon.
3) The day before we left Lake Charles we had to make a return visit to the lawyer's office on Moss Street to sign some paperwork. Our departure was delayed by his assistant, who wanted to share her own fond feelings for Mother, which led her to talk more about how much she loved talking to older people . . . which led me to wonder when we were ever going to get out of there. I kept that to myself of course, remembering the many times that Mother said "This is an opportunity to practice patience." Finally, we were able to approach the car . . . and BAM! An enormous noise! I turned toward the intersection of Broad and Moss to see a piece of black car bumper flying through the air. Two cars had collided at significant speed. Mercifully law enforcement was already in the area, and it didn't look like anyone was injured. After we were on our way, driving down Division Street, Laura pointed out "If we'd left the office any earlier, we'd've been right at that spot when that accident happened." Mother is looking out for us.