Molly’s service was on Sunday afternoon. Jeremy was in Germany and Vince had a work obligation, so I decided to go with Edda, alone. Vickey had offered to come with me to help, but I said that we were going to be OK – other Rett moms would be there, it was going to be a short service and I wanted to be with Edda. I went early to set Edda up, to find a shady spot near to gravesite (it was a hot, muggy day) and hug the family. Because the ground was uneven and grassy, I first rolled Edda’s wheelchair to a shady spot and then I returned to the van to get Edda and we walked (slowly) the short distance to the wheelchair and I eased her into the seat. But Edda was upset – crying and unwilling to settle down. I tried all my soothing tricks, but she was having none of it. I thought it was the heat, so I walked her back to the car and get her back into the air conditioning and by the time I turned around to retrieve Edda’s stroller (and my purse & phone), the service had already started and I didn’t want to interrupt it, so I watched from the van. But Edda, while calmer in the van, was still upset. Upset enough that I had to drive her around the cemetary like a toddler to soothe her. I haven’t had to do that for many, many years. I did end up parking the van and I could see the crowd of people. I cried and watched the service from a distance. Anyways, at the time, I thought Edda couldn’t tolerate the heat (honestly, semi-cursing myself that I signed her up for an all-outdoor summer camp (necessary for covid rules) and that this was a sign she wasn’t going to be able to last a day at camp). I’m not a Rett mother who is confident that her daughter knows of things going on around her. Does she notice that Jeremy is away? Or that her brother came back from college? I’m never sure. In my weakest and most insecure moments, I will look at Edda and wonder if she knows that I’m her mother. So, I didn’t think she would know anything had happened last week. Honestly, I did not actually verbalize to Edda that Molly had passed away until we were pulling out of the garage to go to the service. Perhaps it wasn’t the heat? Edda, who had been calm all day, got upset on the drive to the service (while pleasantly air conditioned) and was upset through the service and only when we were driving back home and she was lulled to sleep by the motion of the car could she calm herself. In retrospect, I think she was grieving the loss of her friend.