John is visiting with Mom Kraker this morning. He has gone every year on this date--this year being the first without Dad. It was 10 years ago today that Myra succumbed to pancreatic cancer. I had seen her at church on Christmas Eve. It was a midnight service, and she called to me as we were exiting down the aisle. She appeared to be as cheery as usual, though she asked that we sit down since her legs were bothering her. She talked about the grandkids and the fun they'd had earlier in the evening, not mentioning that Hospice had visited the day before to talk with both her and John. On the 30th, she'd been in a near coma all day. Then late in the evening, after squeezing John's hand three times (with her beloved cat keeping watch) she died peacefully. Here she is with her beloved husband at the beginning of their short three-year marriage.
