My siblings and I spent this afternoon at the church that we grew up in practicing a short tribute. It was strange to be in that space alone, our words echoing through the same empty pews where we'd sat during so many Sunday masses as kids. After we'd finished Bevan, Cole, my dad and I went to the north side of town to pick Harrison up from daycare and then Bevan, Cole, Peyton and I drove downtown to pick up pizzas for dinner. While we were waiting for the pizzas to cook a woman asked me if I was a Beckman and I told her that my mom was and then she said that I probably don't know her but that she'd recognized me from my mom's blog and that she'd read every single post and that she was so sorry for my loss and that she'd be there tomorrow, at my mom's funeral.
My mom's childhood best friend stopped by for dinner around 7:30 and stayed until just a few minutes ago and for several hours my whole family lay sprawled out in the living room of my parents' condo, the same space where my mom drew her last breath five days ago, drinking beer and wine and looking at pictures and sharing stories and it felt pretty wonderful to be in the same room, despite the circumstances. My mom's childhood best friend lost her husband to cancer a few years ago and so she explained what tomorrow might be like for us and I guess I just hope that I get to hug a lot of people that I don't see very often and that my dad feels like my mom was honored in the way that she deserves to be and that it's more happy than sad and that I don't cry too much.