"Remove your coats and belts. Empty your pockets."

That's what I heard about 200 times this morning while waiting to go through security at The Daley Center (home of the Picasso). I was there to file my mom's will. Consequently I have her death certificate in my purse. How weird is that?

Today I also wrote the check to pay off her funeral.

We're inching slowly through the process, and one of these days I'll be able to think of my mother not as a stack of papers or pile of debts, but as my mommy. She was a woman and she had a life, and I hate reducing her to a mere ledger of debits and credits.