We have family coming to town tomorrow. My brother and my niece are flying in from Jamaica, and my cousin and her husband and three grown boys are driving up from Virginia, all staying with us. They're coming to attend our Aunt Fay's funeral in New Jersey on Saturday, the eighth of the nine elder siblings to whom we must say goodbye. The weather isn't cooperating. The Northeast is experiencing something called a bomb cyclone of snowfall, a blizzard whipped by hurricane force winds. Several inches have already fallen on the city, and tomorrow, when the snow ends, is expected to be a deep freeze. I am working away, trying not to slip into the familiar anxiety that assails me whenever company’s coming. The house is clean, but cluttered from the holidays, and the Christmas tree is still up, though well past its prime. But the snow is pretty, especially from inside.