When It Rains, It Pours
This time, it was expected. After suffering a stroke ten days ago, Jennifer’s maternal grandmother, Dorothy, passed away yesterday in Los Angeles. She was 89. Both Jennifer and her brother Miles were immensely fond of Dorothy, and have often spoken warmly of the role she played in their lives.
I first caught wind of the news late Friday afternoon, when Jennifer’s aunt called, sounding tense. I told her that Jen was working late, and would be coming home after eight. Sure enough, the phone rang again ten minutes after Jennifer’s arrival. This time it was her mother, calling to formally break the news.
In the interim, a huge box of flowers had arrived. I held on to it until Jennifer walked through the door. By the time the phone rang, Jennifer was busy putting the flowers in vases. Along with it was a note from my sister Naomi, who, being the diligent reporter that she is, defined what it means to have good timing.