Justine and Margie had decided to take the lead in the revolt. They were discussing in muttered tones in their little brother Charlie's room. As he was only two years old, he would not be capable of ... [+]
I picked up Mom’s ashes at the funereal parlor and took them home. My brother Donny was there. We’d have our little ceremony before we scattered her ashes.
Mom was Irish, a real lady, but she liked her Guinness.
Donny lit a couple of candles; I got out two bottles of Guinness and glasses. We set the urn in the middle of the table and prepared to drink a toast to Mom. I had a thought.
“Shall I pour a little in there for Mom?” I nodded at the urn
“Better not, or we’ll never get her out of there.”
Mom was Irish, a real lady, but she liked her Guinness.
Donny lit a couple of candles; I got out two bottles of Guinness and glasses. We set the urn in the middle of the table and prepared to drink a toast to Mom. I had a thought.
“Shall I pour a little in there for Mom?” I nodded at the urn
“Better not, or we’ll never get her out of there.”