The mini-memorial weekend for the departed mother went well. The children were all in place by Saturday afternoon, and the music started shortly thereafter. There were breaks while the father got the charcoal started, put the potatoes in the oven, and then got the steaks on the fire, then another break while bread was broken when the meal was ready. The music continued on into the evening.

The festivities concluded on Sunday with more music. Also, the daughter helped the father with closet cleaning. The mother’s purse and bag collection went home with her, and we dumped a large collection of broken curling irons, old plastic hairbrushes, and other miscellaneous haircare paraphernalia that the daughter ensured me would be of no use to anyone and certainly of no sentimental value. It was the same with the old cosmetics, which apparently can breed bacteria if used past their expiration date. The oldest son took home the extra freezer, and my utility room now looks huge.

After the departures on Sunday the father set out to Luckenbach to hear a friend play music, but found the crowds overwhelming, just too many people and not enough masks. Of course, it could have also been just too much happiness. Hard to tell. Anyway, the father made a quick departure and went home to sit in his chair and remember the sound of his children on the porch talking and laughing into the night and think about the music and think about the day when it might be easier to think about the wife and missing mother.