Wednesday we went to Hartford to pay our respects to the matriarch of Bookdwarf‘s family, Aunt Marge. She’s in hospice now, and groggy, but laughing and smiling as her extensive network of friends, family, and fellow parishoners come to visit. She said, “we’re having the wake in the hospital.”
A nurse came in while we were there and said “Well, you look like you’re holding court!”
On the way out, I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said “it’s an honor,” and she held out her hand for me to kiss, and everyone laughed again.
Secretly Ironic 
can’t think of a better way to leave the world.
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