a little at a time

I’ve told the story of finding my father-in-law a bunch of times but for some reason I am still having trouble writing it down. I will tell you that the two days that included the wake and funeral were two of the longest in my existence. I have a couple of close friends in the business of death and I have no idea how they get that done day after day. I was exhausted. Then I was elected by a vote of all eyes on me to deliver a few words from our family at the funeral mass.

That turned out to be a complete struggle. I have never had such a hard time writing anything but some of that was my own fault. I burned a complete hour attempting to put the FUN back in funeral and that just wasn’t happening. I finally decided on short and to the point so I could get through it without choking up. That didn’t really happen as I blew past choked-up two lines in.

The only big reading mistake I made was looking up at my son. His eyes were shut so tight it looked like he was battling an imaginary sandstorm. And then my mind jumped to the fact that I don’t think he had ever seen me cry. He was probably trying to make it go away. He had just been through three days of watching his mom cry almost constantly and that was upsetting enough.

After all that I completely lost my place and the tears made it hard to recover but I finished and went back to my seat as fast as I could. Thinking about it again just got me a little. Kind of douche-chill flop-sweat combo. I wonder how long that’s going to last…

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