On the eve of the funeral
I don’t remember the drive to Spokane at all.
I remember bits and and pieces of the week between Doug’s death and funeral.
I remember being in shock and walking around in a foggy daze.
I remember a grandmother asking about my Thanksgiving at story-time. I didn’t know how to answer. She said hers was, “interesting.” I agreed. Mine was too. Those were all the details I could muster.
I remember being very focused on cutting up nametages for story-time.
I remember leaving early to go home and my coworker chastising me about not knowing where I had been, (I was in my office cutting nametags).
I remember running around town figuring out the food for the funeral.
I remember my mom wanting to serve potato salad (of all things).
I remember going to see New Moon, the latest Twilight installment, and having a good, much needed, laugh.
But I don’t remember the 6 hour drive to Spokane the day before the funeral.
Wait. Yes I do. The one thing I remember about that drive were the frozen waterfalls all along the Gorge. All of them frozen. Even Multnomah Falls.
4 Responses to “On the eve of the funeral”
Death- the term I think I would never be able to understand!
you and me both!
I hit “like” but by like I mean more along the lines of, “I read and understood on some level and appreciated how you tried to voice what was going on in your head.” “Like” seems inadequate, somehow….
aww! thank you. I know what you mean.