Saints, Grandmothers, Dirty Floors

Just back from Cody's grandmother--Evelyn's--funeral in Missouri where, ten days before the wedding, I was struck by how we mark events: with flowers, with food, with good love and lots of company, little bit o' crying, some good hearty laughing.

Now, home, and surrounded by essays to grade, programs to assemble, floors to scrub, meals to make, ends to tie, I emailed my friend Mary who knows all things saint, and asked her which saint to beg for help. Zita, she told me, the patron saint of housewives. So, dear Zita, I yelled to the sky, have at it.

And then the clouds parted...and a booming voice spoke...
The only way to grade essays is to grade them...
to make meals is to make them...
to tie ends is to tie them...

Even Evelyn seemed to speak.
What are you still doing sitting in front of that computer?
Come on, get up. Get down on your knees and scrub!
You won't be around forever, you know.