Grandad’s funeral was yesterday. I cried some at the private service in the morning, but I’m feeling better now. I definitely will miss Grandad, but the acute shock and grief is easing now.
And, hey, if he hadn’t died, he’d be in Europe now, anyway, so I wouldn’t be able to see him anyway. I know it sounds odd, but it sort of helps (I’m a weird person and my mind works in weird, symbolic ways, what can I say?).
Ah, well. It’s all part of the cycles of life. He was at peace with it all, I’m at peace with it, and, as Grandad said himself, “We all have to go sometime.”
Oh, one other rather strange comment…. The house is full of flowers. I love flowers, but it smells like a funeral parlour in here, and my hayfever is going wild from something (not sure which one, or I’d get rid of it!). When Grandad was a minister, he used to go to the church with his wife’s hairspray and spritz all the Christmas lilies (Northern Hemispherans, those are Easter lilies) to keep the pollen from getting everywhere because it bothered him so much). Somehow I just think he’d get a bit of a chuckle from all the flowers here giving me hayfever….
