I turned off the comments on yesterday's entry about my grandfather's death so that no one would feel compelled to say anything. I know how y'all feel and what you would say, and I'm pretty sure I felt some good karma yesterday. For those of you who emailed me, thank you very much.
We're all fine here in Jenworld. I left Pete and the girls at home yesterday so that I could make the trip back to my hometown alone. Not everyone would agree with that decision, but it's what I wanted to do. My girls weren't especially close to their great-grandfather (aka "Greatpa"), so they were not too upset. Mostly, my girls will remember him as the old man who was their beloved Greatma's sidekick and who refused to wear his damn hearing aids, so he could never hear anything that was going on.
I made the trip down to Roanoke and back in one day. There were no great moments of humor to report, only lots of family togetherness. My sister and I are the only girls among the grandchildren and, at one point, my brothers (20-somethings) and our cousins (males ranging in age from 13-22) were standing in a circle (and looking quite handsome in their respective suits -- we are a family that cleans up well) and everyone was laughing and enjoying each other's company. At one point, someone suggested that they take the circle over to the casket and share the jokes with Grandpa, but that was universally rejected as a bit creepy.
My brother and sister-in-law brought the boy, who is now 8.5 months and even more of a delight than even just a week ago. During the service, my sister and I sat on either side of our sister-in-law and we all took turns amusing Micah, who apparently thought it was his civic duty to look back at the people behind us and greet them all individually with smiles and waves. The minister's homily included life and death, the Christmas story, and the healing power of having a baby with us yesterday.
Oh, and unlike the funeral I went to at the same funeral home two months ago, there was no stoned/drunk/whatever organist; therefore no "Amazing Grace, Celine Dion version" followed by "Amazing Grace, Circus version." We can thank Crazy Aunt Laura for the wonderful music that we did hear.
I've decided that my grandmother, whom I absolutely adore, is a rock. I don't know that I could be so calm about the death of my spouse, but she held it together and was strong for all of us. For those of you who read my blog entries about my other grandfather's funeral in October: Not only did Grandma insist that the minister not preach a hellfire and brimstone service, she also walked into the funeral home yesterday, looked the funeral director in the eye, and told him there'd better not be a dove ceremony at the cemetery. There was not.
I hurried home afterward since a snow/ice storm was predicted and I didn't want to get caught in it. Within seven minutes of walking in the door, I had my pajamas on and was camped out on the sofa, where I pretty much stayed the rest of the evening.
Today, I went for a wonderfully long walk and enjoyed the crisp winter air. I've been puttering around the house, tidying things up and preparing for the week ahead. I'm wearing my still-too-tight new jeans, but they don't feel as snug as they did a few days ago, so I hope that means I've lost another pound or two. I'll know tomorrow when I do my weekly weigh-in. My goal is for these jeans to be much too big by the end of the winter, so keep your fingers crossed that I don't dive head-first into a vat of M&Ms anytime soon (or ever).
Life is good.