The whole layout for posting has changed which has left me confused, befuddled, and wondering what will happen when I post. I'm even concerned IF I can post. Which speaks to the fact that the older I get the less well I adapt to change. When I get comfortable with something, understand how to use it, and can make it work pretty much the way I want, I find I don't react well when everything suddenly looks and "acts" differently.
Today was a school holiday. I spent the day diddling around on the computer, taking a long bath, and cooking Hubby a pork chop (minus the bone) lunch. Then, thought I, let's post something joyous on the computer, because, let's be honest, the last entry was something of a downer. And I open blogger to find everything looks and feels different.
Yesterday Hubby and I met the second of the third couples we attend concerts with at Tom's funeral. It was a Catholic Mass and thankfully it was not a service full of "Tom Memories" -- which I probably could not have sat through. I'm a crier at funerals -- and even when I have gone to funerals of people I barely know (to support either Hubby who was singing at the funeral or to support a friend who lost a loved one) I cry. Put me at a funeral with lots of sad music and sad stories about a person I love and I'm a total embarrassment.
After the service we drove to the cemetery in the funeral procession and stood outside on a beautiful, breezy, spring day. The clouds were wafting overhead, the birds were singing full voice, and Tom was laid to rest in a virgin plot -- no other graves were around him. He looked like he would be reigning over his own summer meadow. He has a lovely resting spot -- I like to think of him there.
A lunch was being served at Tom's church following the burial, but we elected to go to a favorite "down home" restaurant of Tom's and eat lunch together, telling funny stories about concerts and meals we shared. The staff at the restaurant knew Tom, and gathered round as Hubby told them that we had just come from his funeral. We sat for a spell after the meal, just "remembering."
4 comments:
I don't like change either. I don't think I've ever cried at a funeral, which makes me feel like there's something wrong with me. Honestly, I hardly ever cry about anything, although I did cry a couple nights ago for a long time after I went to bed, knowing my daughter has cancer, it's in the lymph glands, and she is going to have to undergo chemo. I cried a lot. But nobody saw me crying, so it doesn't count... right?
That may be the longest sentence I have ever written.
Oh, and I just did an entry and found out what you are talking about regarding changes. Good grief! They didn't even warn us.
I think you did the perfect thing to celebrate Tom's life and your memories together. I cry a LOT, which is a huge venting mechanism for me. It really does help.
Post a Comment