To make matters worse...

My son and I went grocery shopping late this afternoon. I had a headache (I still have a headache, two extra-strength Tylenols later) and tried to nap earlier, to no avail. In the produce aisle I met Margaret, a white-haired townie who attends the same writing group as myself, and she said, “Have you heard about our Dorothy?” I answered in the negative. It turns out she died in her sleep on Thursday night, quite peacefully. She was up in her 80’s at least, a retired teacher who had emigrated from Ireland, never married, who was also part of my writing group but hadn’t come for some time recently.

I can’t say I was really shocked. She was very old and extremely frail looking. But she was a fixture in my life here. Margaret said she had been working in the garden that afternoon, and the next morning her neighbour who brings her the morning paper didn’t get an answer when she rang the bell, so she telephoned, still didn’t get an answer, and finally got another neighbour who had a key to let her in. They found her curled up in the fœtal position, fast asleep, permanently, in bed. Well, if you’re going to go, I suppose that’s the way to do it.

[Second entry today]

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