What do you do on the day when the woman who has been like a grandmother to you for many years goes home to celebrate Easter with Jesus from the other side of the grave?
You talk to your bestie, and your daughter in love, and your mama, and your sister. You put on a pretty dress and go to the Farmer’s Market with some of your people. You find sweet friends to visit with, plus beautiful jewelry, freshly baked challah wreaths from your Easter table, and locally brewed coffee from small businesses. You go grocery shopping so dazed and confused that your son’s girlfriend has to come find you wandering in the auto parts section of WalMart and finish your grocery shopping for you. You celebrate the birthday of a dear friend’s miracle baby. You pick up a surprise gift from a generous friend of a t-shirt that you’ve been wanting. You laugh with a friend over your haphazardly made Easter dinner plans. You hug your people 73 extra times. You hang out with your ridiculously handsome husband and are grateful for having someone to share life’s burdens with each day. You prepare to feed your delightful assortment of family and friends and probably a few random strangers a big meal, hope you have enough forks, and are reminded anew of the many Many MANY blessings in your life. 
Welcome Home, Mary Hover Parker, aka Grandieu. Your race is finished. I’ll see you when I get there. 
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