Sorry the Saturday Slant was late today—14:45 PT. We attended a memorial service this morning.
The service was in honor of a woman who passed last Friday, 18 February. Her seven year-old daughter attends school with my seven and nine year-old step-daughters (to be).
Though Strawberry Blonde had helped the woman, Debbie, and her daughter, Noelle, a few times, and we had all met the entire family, we did not know them. The family was… different. I’ve tried half a dozen times to explain that statement, but no matter kindly how I try, it feels to me like speaking ill of the dead. So, I will not explain it.
Of the handful of times I saw Debbie, one fleeting, barely noticable moment stands out in my mind; it is a moment that, from the recollections of her family and friends at the memorial service, is obviously the best—and typical—of the late mother.


