I don’t even like pie

Lately it’s everything. The first sunny day it seems in months and I read Nora Ephron’s last book I Remember Nothing and Other Reflections in an hour in my most comfortable chair. It’s really Gerald’s chair but now, all of these things feel like our things. She talks so much about mortality and it’s haunting. She was by all rights still young, too young to be talking so much about death and not three years later she died. It’s incredibly sad, the last chapter in the book is a list of things she will miss and the very last item is pie. And so I cry because I think about pie and sharing pie and suddenly the years are gone and maybe my own mother will be gone someday too and I don’t even like pie.