When Mom died, I was reading Nora Roberts

I want to remember everything about what happened when Mom died. I want to remember that Susan talked to Mom about her gardens and Elaine read her Weight Watcher recipes before we all arrived. I want to remember that Chuck took care of getting the carpet cleaned so Dad wouldn't have to see the blood and vomit. I want to remember that Stan prayed with our family, twice, before Mom passed away. I want to remember Matt, with his stoic face, and tears streaming from his eyes, and Julie, whose heart was breaking as we watched Mom's oxygen levels slowly decline. I want to remember Lauren, who wanted to know everything that was going on with Mom - as a young med student would. I want to remember that it wasn't like on TV - there was no beeping of equipment along with her heart - just silence (when Tyler had finished reading Green Eggs and Ham) as her oxygen levels slipped to zero. I want to remember that Carolyn and Dad picked out Mom's dress, and that we were supposed to include undergarments. I want to remember that I wasn't too thrilled when I heard the casket and lining were blue, until Midge from Mom's church said "It's the color of the Blessed Mother", and suddenly I was fine. And I want to remember that I thought Mom looked pretty good - and she was smiling, even though Leah said she looked weird.