My father had died again, and I was at the wake, this time held in a house that looked like my aunt's. Towards the end of the wake, someone pointed at some artwork on the wall, saying that it was left to me in the will. I looked at it, sort of a mosaic of metallic colors -- blue, turquoise, rust, and a funky, uneven surface. I thought about the last time he'd died, he'd bequeathed (to my mother) some drawings done by a friend; the drawings never interested me, but I could get into this mosaic thingy.