Your grandmother sat next to me at the funeral reception.
She was eating cream cheese by the spoonful as if everyone ate cream cheese this way, as if it were more like cottage cheese.
I didn’t say much because we had already made small talk in church when people were finding their seats.
I went to back to the buffet and loaded up my plate with a few scoops of cream cheese and some cantaloupe.
When I came back she looked up and said, “Don’t mock me. Not today.”
My guilt turned to frustration and I thought, How come you’re the only one who gets to eat cream cheese this way?
Her sister had just died, so I kept that thought to myself.
