If not tomorrow, then the next day, I will go down to the beach, where the tide goes in and out, day after day.
His mother died two days after Thanksgiving, in 1975, at 89.
His father died in 1948, at age 60.
Dad was 90.
Jo's mom died just over a year ago, her dad a few weeks ago.
So not that long ago, our girls had eight living grandparents and stepgrandparents.
Now it seems like a freight train - but my mom's father died in 1953, her mother in 1973.
That things seem to be all happening at once has to do with their holding off, not things suddenly going terribly wrong.
I don't imagine my mom will stick around all that long now that dad's gone, but she still has some real strengths, so maybe she'll surprise us.
A few minutes after I got the news from my brother, there was one loud crack of thunder.
I stood on the porch for a while and watched the rain.