Chapter 11
Milo became angry at the urn.
That surprised me.
One night he shoved the memorial-room door closed.
“Don’t want Mommy.”
I crouched.
“Okay.”
He looked ready for correction.
None came.
“Why?”
“She makes Verena go away.”
There.
Child logic.
He connected the scandal to the object.
Not jealousy.
Not deception.
Mommy’s urn caused engagement to end.
“No.”
I sat beside him.
“Verena left because of choices grown-ups made.”
He kicked the carpet.
“Mommy dead.”
“Yes.”
“Still makes problems.”
That hurt because grief can feel exactly like that.
Dead people affect living rooms.
Plans.
Emotions.
Relationships.
I did not tell him to respect the dead.
I said:
“Sometimes missing someone is annoying.”
He looked at me.
Then laughed.
Good.
“Mommy annoying?”
“She was very annoying.”
He smiled.
“Really?”
I told him Evelyn snored lightly when exhausted and denied it.
That she hated losing games.
That she once refused to speak to me over a garden fountain.
Milo loved that.
The urn became less powerful afterward.
Not mother.
Just ashes.
May you like
Memory moved into stories.
Healthier.
