Aunt Mimi is home now. I’m glad she didn’t have to struggle through a long rehabilitation or linger unresponsive for a long time. I’m glad I got to spend time with her twice this year. I’m glad she told me when I was a rotten teenager that God had a plan for my life. I’m glad I know where she is right now.
The song that was playing on the radio when my mom called to let me know about her stroke was:
‘Til we meet, ’til we meet, ’til we meet at Jesus’ feet . . . . See you there Aunt Mimi.
