Some Buried Caesar

            It was a quiet day. Peter rode the Megabus to Union Station in D.C. and caught one of the last Red Line subway trains to Medical Center last night while Jim flew to BWI (Baltimore Washington International Airport) and I picked him up.

            We hung out in David’s room all day. The morning was punctuated by doctors’ rounds. We ate in the room and at 3 p.m. had a conference call, with Matt in Chicago and Sam in Provo, Utah, to discuss our current family book group selection, Some Buried Caesar, by Rex Stout. (Nero Wolfe was my mom’s favorite detective.) R’el was sleeping after her Friday night moonlighting gig, and of course Annie is doing her missionary work in Taiwan. It was wonderful to share the call with our four sons. We talked for over two hours.

            David’s bishop here in D.C. and his wife dropped by to say hello. They lived in the Philadelphia area when I was a college student at Bryn Mawr, back in the seventies, so we undoubtedly attended the same stake meetings (a stake is a collection of around 8 to 10 congregations), but never met until David came here.

            After supper we went on a leisurely walk down the 5 West corridors, looked out the window, and even ventured out a bit to the 5 Central nursing station.

            Then Jim, Peter, and I sang a few hymns, including the one Jim often sang the kids at night, “Carry On”. Peter and Jim sang, “Behold, the Mountain of the Lord”. And we ended with the round, “The Priesthood of our Lord”.