Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document

“Bunny can be the supervisor.”

I sat Bunny on the lawn chair, leaning against a cushion.

Chloe giggled and dug another hole.

We planted twenty bulbs in a line along the fence, and she counted each one aloud.

“Twenty,” she said.

“That’s more than all my fingers.”

“Nearly all of them.”

She rocked back on her heels.