Chapter 20

I spent the next few days at home with dad in a state of alcohol-induced numbness. Mom’s favorite drink was a chilled Titos with a lemon and I kept my tumbler full of it while reconciling being simultaneously grief stricken and angry at someone who is no longer with you. I felt robbed of time I could have spent with her, had I known. I shuffled through her desk, looking for clues as to what was going through her mind while I was away. I found every graphic design project I’d done in Japan proudly hung up inside the desk’s hutch, with a photograph of her, Colin and I, taken while out to brunch. I found solace that she had been proud enough of my accomplishments and had liked Colin enough to display them in what little room she had on her crowded bulletin board.

Dad and I went through the motions of delivering the news to relatives and making cremation arrangements with the funeral home. Mom hadn't wanted a service; she simply wanted to be scattered at sea, at Wrightsville Beach. I ha