Mine came in the form of a phone call while I was listening to this woman play her saxophone at the Vancouver Art Gallery.
This was a few days ago, before the rains hit. It was a warm September day, and I had just finished a tasty bean stew and a latte.
I still had time before my writing group, and I was finishing my coffee and watching how the musician incorporated recordings from her laptop into her live performance.
When my cell phone rang, my aunt and cousins told me our beloved Auntie Doris had died at 91.