Thanks to all of you who have sent condolences. I received a sweet e-mail from Francesca Watson which I acknowledged without knowing that her father is ill. Miss Francesca, I wish the best for your father and your family.

Mother died about 10 minutes after I boarded a plane in Baton Rouge. My sister and sister-in-law who were present tell me that she departed peacefully and quietly, slipping away while they were talking in the room. My sister tells me she had checked on her only a couple of minutes before. She did not die alone, which was a fear for us while she lived in her house. This year had been a particular struggle for Mother, whose world was becoming smaller and smaller as her breathing capacity diminished until she was finally bedridden. Cliched as it is, her sufferings are over.

I had no issues with my mother, so my grief is mainly sadness that she is gone. We had no long-standing scores to settle, no bitterness between us, no regrets. She was a hard-working homemaker whom God will happily invite into his Heaven because she made the best chocolate cream and coconut cream pies (and apricot fried pies, BJB) in all creation.

Ecclesiastes is the scripture for me right now. And the angels better watch their weight.