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It's Thursday, June 22, the second day of summer of 2005.

I just attended an awesome Writing for the Web seminar in Chicago led by Shel Holtz. Very awesome indeed. I also learned about RSS, which allows people to get updates on my blog automatically. I don't know enough to explain it myself yet, so go to Wikipedia.com and punch in RSS to learn more. It's a great concept, though. You should also go to NewsGator.com or the like and sign up for a free account. It's way cool once you get into it.

I've been sick for the past few days. Not fun when you are in a seminar--especially when the seminar is actually good (some suck) and you don't want to miss anything. I'm feeling better now. But I did find out that my mother was very close to having a heart attack this weekend. She is still not in the clear yet but is doing better. It's really hard to get my mind around it. For the first time I actually had this thought run through my mind: what if something happened to my mother while I was gone/not near/not in the same room? What if my mother had a heart attack and died? How could something like that happen? How could it be allowed?

It, of course, didn't. But yesterday was the first time I ever thought of my mother as anything but eternal. I came to the realization that when your parent dies, you are no longer a kid anymore. If something had happened to my mother, I would have had to grow up really fast. And I'm 32. I am grown up. But no matter how old you are, you are always somebody's baby. My grandmother is sick with worry about her 54-year-old baby. When her mother died (at the age of 98), Grandma was Granny's baby. Her oldest baby, and she was in her seventies.

Oh, the irony of the one who writes about cemeteries and death being afraid of death and losing the ones she loves.

-Minda

www.TheCemeteryClub.com