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And then it feels not so good when you're not even in control
of that any more.

It can be hard to not be abl~ to feel what you want to feel. The
worst feeling is when you can't anymore. When you're numb, you wish
you still had the pain. You wish for anything but for more of the same.
The monotony is oppressive.

I think if! did have writer's block bad enough, I could under-
stand where he was coming from. Not that he had it when he died, but
how could they know?

§

There are chairs against the walls. There's a table with vegan
treats and another with the meat platter and some bread, condiments
to make sandwiches. Another has a potluck look to it. I didn't bring
anything. I didn't think to-and it's hard to know what's acceptable to
bake for such an occasion.

I grab a paper plate, and a fork from a basket of real silverware.
I get some macaroni and cheese from the potluck table and some brus-
chetta from the vegan table. I sit in a chair by front door. I don't want
to look up to see who may be looking at me now. People are clustered
either sitting or standing around the room. Then I hear someone call
me.

"Sarah? It's Carolyn;' she says. She looks clean again. "How are
you holding up?"

"Is there a family plot?"

She looks like she wasn't expecting me to answer. "I'm sorry,
what?"

"Don't you all have a family plot? Or did Diane just want to
keep him all to herself?"

I didn't think I was talking that loudly. I didn't think that I felt
that way. People are definitely looking, but looking away almost as soon
as they turn to me. They can all see me.

They have to now.

"Why was he cremated? Why didn't you have a service at the
church?"

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