Lots of bitter women have, I would assume, made lots and lots of money by writing how-to-be-divorced books.

Many well-meaning folks have passed those along to me over the past almost-decade, thinking that it would be a nice gesture, or maybe they thought I could use some help.

If I said that those books are garbage, perhaps I would be thought to be bitter. In truth, every single divorce is completely unique because every single divorce involves two different people.

So every time something new has happened in the past almost-decade, I've done what felt right and what I thought might be the right thing to do.

So last week, between the death of the friend's beloved mother in early February and 24 hours before the death of everybody's (me included) best friend forever, Rich Bircumshaw, my kids lost their other grandma and my ex-husband lost his mother.

So this isn't really about me at all, but about how you just wing it and hope you do the right thing.

Both of my kids are going to all of the services, and I'm really proud that they are. Lost time on the job and missing classes right before finals are certainly not ideal, but family is family.

I am not going.

Sure, I know I am welcome, and sure, I am thinking that they might wonder why I'm not there.

But the fact is, we are no longer married.

I sent flowers to the funeral home and a card to her other son and his wife. And I've talked to the ex-husband several times, and I sent him a card, as well.

Last year, when I was planning Mouse's graduation festivities, I of course included the extended family and invited them to everything, because they are Mouse's family and always will be.

And the kids' dad and the friend are used to being together at stuff for the kids, and mostly they just gang up on me and continuously make fun of me.

Her uncle and aunt came for graduation, and her cousin surprised us all by flying home that weekend and accompanying her parents.

Over the years, I've been invited to showers and weddings and other events, and we exchange cards at Christmas and on other important occasions.

Of course, when someone in the family dies, you immediately recall specific things, as well as overall impressions.

Skinny Son's first road trip in his life was to his grandparents' house at about 6 weeks old.

Grandma Irene had told me the first time I met her that I was "different than I expected." Somehow, I wasn't completely convinced that was a good thing. So like any good reporter, I straight out asked her.

And in her heavily Midwestern Minnesota reserved way, she assured me that that was a very good thing.

My family's house has always been loud and boisterous and at times, shockingly abrasive to those who aren't used to that. Whether it's Trivial Pursuit, Jeopardy or touch football that's never touch, Shurmurs are just that way.

Grandma Irene and Grandpa George were calm - very calm. They enjoyed being on their back patio and in their backyard more than anything else.

She was the thriftiest woman I have ever known and made her house look like Better Homes and Gardens completely - and I mean completely - from garage sales.

She taught me that garage sale shopping is an exercise in patience - which I do not have any of - and that you can go for hours and hours for weeks and weeks and not find anything worth buying. And then you find the perfect curtains to match last month's bedspread and a Martha Stewart room is born.

She bought baby clothes for Skinny Son and Mouse that were horribly stained, took them home, made a magic paste and soaked them in it, and they looked literally brand-new.

She had matching dishes and flatware and every piece came from garage sales.

She had more paperback books than a library, and her crawl space was like the best department store.

She was proud of her Russian Orthodox heritage and thrilled that I went to church.

Her cheesecake is legendary, and I vowed to my husband that I would keep the recipe a secret.

She was the mother of my husband; the grandmother of my children. It's the very least I could do.

Community News editor Sally Ann Shurmur can be reached at (307) 266-0520 or sallyann.shurmur@trib.com. Read Sal's blog at tribtown.trib.com/Sal/blog.