Now What?

After the Memorial service, they all drove to the place where I was to be planted with my weeping willow tree. The spot was beautiful and so full of light and nature that he couldn't have picked a better place to have me planted! He never ceases to amaze me. Those are the things that make me so proud. After that, they all left for the luncheon, and I stayed behind. I feel like if I stay any longer, it would just make me more depressed. Knowing the fact that I can no longer call upon them when I want to just catch up and do something with them. Knowing that they'll never get to hear me tell them how prod of them i am. As I look up at the sky, tears begin to flow down my cheeks. Remembering what I can before I forget the rest.

Afternoon turned into dark, and as I realized I no loner require sleep, I start to wonder around trying to think about what to do now. The place I was planted was in a rural area so I walked what seamed like hours, until I come across a town that I hadn't ever been before. "I guess I'll start here" I thought to myself. The towns name was called Elkins. Population 15000 people. "Small town. I wonder if everyone knows each other hahaha!" I said loudly, and then realized no one can hear me. I walked around a few minutes before I found a small twenty-four hour diner and went inside to find my first person to follow. There wasn't a whole lot of people here so it was pretty easy to find my first pick. An elderly man sat by himself in a booth facing a window, as he read the daily paper. I sat across from him to see what he was reading. It was the obituaries. He must have lost someone dear to him recently. Then, there it was....MY obituary!

Magen McCormick died October 15th, 2025 at the age of 45.

Survived by her are her parents Stephen and Marie McCormick, sisters

Lynn Write, Ann Oser, and Sue Myers, and sons Paul and Alexander McCormick.

5 nieces, two nephews, and one great niece and one great nephew. Memorial

Services on October 20th, 2025 at 1 o'clock PM at Slalen Funeral Home.

Luncheon to follow.

Nothing fancy, to the point. I'm glad he didn't spend a lot of money on it.

"So young" the old man said. "Didn't get a chance to live her life or finish watching her sons grow up." That is true, but I didn't want to be reminded about that. Thankfully he turned the page to the funnies. He read a few and got some chuckles out of them. Then I though to myself, "This is the one, this is the first person I'm going to follow for a while." I found out from the waitress that his name is Winston. He's been coming here for 20 years since he and his wife, Matilda, moved to this small town.

Matilda died about 7 years ago, and he didn't think it right to stop their tradition of coming here every Monday evening for supper. He sipped on a cup of coffee while she ate fried eggs, sunny side up, with toast and buttered grits. She had orange juice and a side glass of ice water to drink. Since she has passed, he would always order what she ordered and had it placed across from him while he still sipped on his coffee and read the daily paper. When he was finished with his coffee and two refills, he paid his bill, got a to go container for her food, and left the diner.

There was a homeless man sitting on the curb just across the street at an old gas station, and the old man would take the food over to the homeless man every Monday and give it to him so he wouldn't go hungry before bed that night. "What a genuinely nice old man! I picked the right one to start with!"