For Amy

I became a grown-up the night we snuck upstairs and ate angelfood cake
in the family room.
It had been a horrible night. All those people at the house for The
Sing, and the dreadful news from the hospital. Grandpa sitting with
his hands folded, staring into the middle distance. His hair looked
whiter.
Sometimes my dad sits with his hands folded like that. I wonder if
your dad does too.
I don't remember crying too much. I just remember angelfood cake.
Sara cried.
When Glenda came down in the middle of the night, she didn't tell us
to go back to bed, but she sat with us a while.
We just talked about anything. A bit about Grandma, how weird it was
that she was just gone. School, family, I'm not sure what else. I
remember laughing, and how strange it was to laugh and feel the weight
of death at the same time.
It felt important. You and me in our pj's, in the big house full (to
the brim) of sleeping cousins. We were all safe, and sad together.
It WAS important.
So, thanks. It was a good way to grow up.