The funeral home asked whether Rebecca Moore had preferred burial or cremation.
Henry stared at the woman across the desk.
"I don't know."
She offered a sympathetic smile. "Did she ever mention it?"
He almost laughed. Mention it? His mother had spent the better part of the last decade trying not to die. Neither of them had ever figured out what happened if she did.
"No."
The woman nodded as if that answer wasn't uncommon. "What about religious preferences?"
Henry shook his head again.
Music? Flowers? An obituary? A favorite color?
Every question ended the same way.
"I don't know."
By the time the meeting ended, Henry realized he'd known his mother better than anyone else in the world. He also realized there were entire parts of her life he'd never known at all.
---
The funeral
