Happy Christmas, everyone
Throughout the funeral I saw her swooping over fields, laughing, arms outstretched, doing double backflips; that was the Jeanetta I knew. Elegant and social. In jeans, outside, hair tousled. It was supposed to be a private gathering, just her family and her closest friends but then it grew and I got the call and my Friday which was supposed to be have been in London with Beth, and lunch at my brother’s changed shape. As did theirs, also by death. Beth flew to New Orleans for two funerals and my brother stayed in Scotland for a third.
Bright sunlight after weeks of rain, the church heating had…
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