Outstanding prose that hit me like a lead sinker. KUDOS to Marilyn Armstrong! ~ Bette A. Stevens http://www.4writersandreaders.com
Death always takes us by surprise. Even when you know someone is terribly sick, when the end comes, it’s still a shock.
Thus it was that in the darkest part of a winter night, with the temperature hovering just above zero and heavy snow expected, the phone rang. Of course I knew. I could feel it. Death was in the air. Expected though the call was, it nonetheless hit me like a bludgeon. Forever. My father was dead. At 90, he had passed over. I hoped he’d gone to a better place, but felt the odds were against it. There would be no reconciliation, no happy ending.
Edith, my father’s lady friend of the last 5 years, was on the phone.
“You father passed away during the night,” she said. Her voice broke as she told me. “He went in his sleep,” she added.
“A mitzvah,” I said, reflexively. To die…
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Bette A. Stevens, Maine Author 
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