We've set the date of my father's funeral: next Tuesday, the 29th. My wife has been doing the bulk of scheduling, but I've pitched in by fielding a phone call or two.
My father's death still doesn't, sometimes, seem real. On the other hand, those flashes of memory are still popping up: a song he sang; the habit he had of having Boots, the cat, wave 'goodnight' to me - a gentle bit of puppetry, that; sharpening a hatchet on a spinning stone in the garage. Good memories.
'Don't be sad because something's over: be happy because it happened' is a rough paraphrase of something he told his grandchildren when visits were over. I'm hoping one of them remembers the words better than I do.
Today hasn't been all remembrance and mourning. #1 daughter's here, I grilled lunch - and didn't incinerate the burgers - and more must have happened.
What started out as a short nap ended by my sleeping right up to supper time, so I'm a bit hazy on what all went on today. It'll take doing to tame my sleeping schedule.
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