This past week, two people I knew died of COVID-19. This afternoon, I stopped by the calling hours for one of them for just a few minutes.
I think most people are putting off any gatherings -- Joseph's sister said there'd be something when it's safe -- but there's a strong longing to observe the longstanding practices around the passing of a loved one. I figured I could go for a few minutes and be reasonably safe. If there were people not wearing masks, I could leave.
Everyone was wearing a mask, with the exception of the one person whose face I recognized. The deceased was wearing his old Army uniform. There didn't seem to be a receiving line, just a few clusters of people. I could probably have asked someone to point out the daughter I'd been talking to. Should, maybe. But I felt like I had paid my respects. The last time I was at Perkins Funeral Home was almost 11 years ago. Must've been Dan's father's passing.
Paying my respects to Joseph is taking a different approach. I bought some frozen cherries on my way home from Dryden to make cherry pie, to celebrate one of my favorite connections with Joseph -- our weekly viewing of "Twin Peaks." I'm going to make cherry pie, and eat it with a damn good cup of coffee. But also I'm going to try Joseph's regular order at Dunkin', coffee with a caramel swirl and cream and a croissant snacker.
Calling hours (201.3)
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