T would have loved this answer

I assumed I’d be the “other woman” -that I would know no one and no one would know me, a stranger appearing from nowhere.

Not the case. 
- T made sure her “liaison” understood the nature, duration, and depth of our relationship. 
- A woman named Judy came today and was so happy to see me and so sorry her husband couldn’t make it. Did I remember her? No. They were so grateful to me for my help with their website but even more, for introducing them to hot peppers and sausage on pizza, now her husband’s favorite food, did that help me remember? No….but clearly someone there liked me.
- H, who worked with T on the art blog they set up where they posted poetry and photographs, including my photographs, raved about my pictures and how beautifully they encapsulated concepts. Another Judy said, “well now I want to see them” and I said, “me too!” (You guys must get different pictures.)

They spread T’s ashes under a newly planted Gem Magnolia - carefully ensuring the ashes were in a trench that would not touch the roots. 

Bury me with vinca. Then I know I will live forever and survive anything. 

They had everyone go around and say how they knew T. Everyone else knew her through local groups she started, like the blog, or a poetry group, or Wise Older Women (WOW), or work. I was the last person before…..her son. 

I’m not answering that question in front of her son.

My wish for you - at your funeral, to be held a long, long, long, very long time from now - may some mysterious person, of either gender, attend, blush when asked how they know you, and refuse to answer.