I am back in the Ottawa Valley for my mother’s interment. “What is an interment?” I hear you ask. Well… my mother died last February. In this part of the world, in February, the ground is deeply frozen. People who die in the winter can’t be buried at that time. The burial then, the interment, happens sometime in spring after the thaw. We get together and host a mini funeral.
My brothers will also be at the internment as will other family. One of my brothers and I both flew red eyes into Ottawa. We will drive the last leg up to my parents home together.
Every few years I must relearn why I shouldn’t fly red eyeS. They sound attractive— they are less expensive and I can travel without loosing a day, In practice I sleep badly on the jet and can only get a couple hours of shut eye. I’ll be exhausted today. Fortunately, being exhausted is acceptable at a funeral.
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