Coping with loss.

My sister is gone. Her bed sheets are in the wash (not because she is dirty or anything...she stripped her own bed out of charitable service.) The last of the hummus is nearly gone and the avocados have vanished from my counter top. Mia played alone this morning.
It was so much fun to have her here...long enough to satisfy my need for familial companionship...also long enough to be used to just having her around. I am so sad that I think I will finish off her 2nd 12 pack of Vanilla Cokes in the fridge, today. They kind of give me a headache, but I will drink them in honor of her. She is giving up soda, by the way.
So in my sadness I will buy a new cardigan. There. I feel kind of better. It's green, and pretty.
And now to cheer me up, I will recount a story that I randomly remembered while driving in the car today.
My story is entitled: "Why I think Colorado is cool."
Number one reason would be that I know a lot of really cool people that live there. And from what I have seen driving through it several times, it looks pretty beautiful...even the treacherous mountain passes that we have scaled through at precarious hours of the night.
Once we were driving from Utah to Texas (a drive that I somewhat despise and have done way too many times...though I have to say I prefer the Colorado route to the New Mexico one...sorry, but the home town of Billy the Kid wasn't exciting enough to distract me from getting snowed in at Albuquerque a couple of years ago.) My husband was pulled over for a traffic violation...I must take the opportunity to note (since he is not available to defend himself) that I have been in the car countless, let me repeat, countless times when he has been pulled over...countless, did I say that already? This is the only time he has received a ticket. What can I say? He has that Scharman charm about him. That includes him getting out of the ticket where he was pulled over going 20 over the speed limit, in a construction zone, in someone else's car, with no insurance and no license...the cop was a woman. I told you he could be charming.
Anyway, I seem to have deviated from my story...but while I'm at it I would also like to take the opportunity to point out (because my original point of a story was not nearly long enough) that I have been pulled over, that is pulled over, once in my entire 15 years of driving. My friend Kristen was in the car and no matter how cute we tried to be, I was not nearly as charming as my dear husband. I have zero skills when it comes to flirting or "buttering up". By the way, I don't really find this wrong. I had a real cop tell me once that it works so I figure as long as they know that's what people are doing, give it your best shot. I got a ticket and had to take defensive driving, on my birthday. When I showed up for the class it was 10 whole minutes before I realized that my "comedy defensive driving class" (soft drinks included) was across the hall and I was instead sitting in the class for minors who had been pulled over for driving under the influence. They were all a little spacey. Where was I?
Oh yeah. We got pulled over in Colorado. The cop was a very nice. He was apologetic for having to give us a ticket and when he noticed that all of our children were properly restrained in the appropriate car seats he bestowed upon us certificates for free ice cream cones at McDonald's. I simply couldn't be upset with him. He was just so darn nice.
There. That was my whole story. Aren't you glad I added all of those superfluous details in between? Here, I'll even throw in a picture for you.