The Passing of Nona.

My neighbor, a dear friend, lost their mother last night. Nona was one cool lady and we had many a wonderful conversation over the ten years I've known her.

I suppose it was for the best as her health was rapidly deteriorating. She had moved up the street from us earlier this year to The Legacy at Clover Blossom here in Brighton. The Legacy purchased the property from The Sisters of Mercy amidst some financial hardships and plenty of stroking of the Town of Brighton. I'm sure the Sisters would be disgusted at the events I'll briefly describe.

Upon Nona's passing she was found, by an employee of The Legacy, in her room on the floor, gone. The family was called and upon their arrival entered the room to find Nona in the same position as that of her last breath. When asked why there mother was on the still on the floor surrounded in vomit, the Legacy responded, "We don't get paid to move'em.".

What about decency and a tiny bit of respect?

Hey Legacy proper, fuck you, and your SOP. And to the Legacy employee whose response made me ill, you are a sad commentary on the state of compassion in a world seemingly void of good deeds without a payday.

It was only today I learned her name was Mary Ellen.