Saying Goodbye to Mrs. Keaton

My friend Ali's mom always resembled Diane Keaton, so Mrs. Keaton was the easy nickname I gave her. She adopted it with open arms, insisting that I always call her Mrs. Keaton from that day on.

Talking about someone in the past tense is always strange the first time around. Mrs. Keaton passed away this morning--something I found out through a sad, but brave phone from Ali. I had just seen Mrs. Keaton a few days before this news, so it was extra weird to hear...like it couldn't be true, like I had misheard.

Unfortunately this information can't be unheard or undone. And such is life.

But what a life to know--one full of warmth and quirkiness, with a hippie spirit. She will always be that flower child who had enough soul to dig Marvin Gaye.

Ali, my Ali...I hope you find some peace tonight knowing that your mother loved you so dearly she treated me like another daughter simply because I was your friend. I hope I can show you half the love she has shown you. And so, her hippie soul carries on...through you.

And to Mrs. Keaton, one more Marvin song for the road. Who knows, maybe you get to see him in person in that great rock concert in the sky...