So far, not so good. A co-worker died Wednesday morning. Not just a co-worker, but a really neat, funny, feisty person. Like, her picture should be right next to any definition of the word, always. I went to the funeral. It was rough. There was a table set up with pictures, and there was one of her sitting on the back of a pony, dressed up like a little cowboy, chaps and hat and all. It was the perfect 1950s picture, a slice of life as it used to be. She looked so happy, with her little girl face. It was amazing how much that face never changed, and in every single picture, old or new, she had the same light in her eyes--a light that promised she was up to no good.
So, I post this here for me, to remind me that I haven't got all day to let folks know how much I love them.