Tomorrow morning, I am driving to Mayberry for the funeral. I’ll be meeting two of the Girls at my parent’s house and, together, we will meet Phoebe and another of our roommates at the church.
I have spoken to each of the Girls more times in the past three days than I have in the last six months and, while we are all looking forward to seeing one another, we hate the reason for the visit.
On the other hand, wise men have said that laughter is the most potent medicine for healing a broken soul and, since we find it almost impossible not to find something to laugh about when we are all together; Phoebe’s soul will be getting a heaping dose of the good stuff.
And hers won’t be the only one.