On May 23rd, we laid my Mom to rest in a grave site service with my Dad. The service was lovely, the Minister a caring, kind man who read my eulogy for me. I wasn't able to do it, I cried as I was writing it. I sealed in in plastic and buried it with Mom. I know somewhere her and Dad are watching me, I have to believe that.
We had a lovely luncheon afterwards, a very good friend from out of town brought almost all the food and by the time I got back to the house from the cemetary it was all laid out already. Everyone reminisced about Mom and told their favourite stories.
While we were all out in the backyard, around the corner a police chase was on. Police cars, K-9 unit and media trucks converged on our street. Seems that two youth tried to break into houses carrying a loaded sawed off shotgun, were seen by an off duty police officer who tried to make an arrest and was helped by a citizen. The other youth ran, dumped his shotgun two houses down from us and was later caught. On tips from neighbours a grow op was found at his home and five people in total have been charged. I wouldn't be surprised if they were out on bail by dinner time.
The week preceding
it was the hardest of my life. My sweetie and me kind of rambled around in the house, just the two of us like lost souls. During the almost three years that Mom had lived with us her presence was known and now she is gone. I keep going into her room looking around and crying. From where I sit typing this post I can see the back of her recliner and used to see her head and hear her tv
. Sometimes it was on too loud and I'd get slightly annoyed but now I wish I could hear it again.
The weekend of the 19th
was a holiday weekend here in T-Dot and my sweetie thought maybe he'd take me up to the cabin for two days to change my mood. Unfortunately that morning I woke with the worst sore throat I'd had in years. I wasn't going anywhere. He spent the weekend instead dosing me with Neocitran
, tea with honey and lemon and chicken soup.
When my offspring arrived with the baby on the 22nd
I still had my cold so bad I was afraid to go near the baby. I didn't want to infect a month old infant with my cold. Bonding will have to wait a few more days.
Neighbours and friends are dropping in quite regularly to make sure we eat and are not always alone and getting down. It's nice of them, really appreciated actually, but wallowing in my misery is what I really need to do for a few more days. A really good friend from the 70's who had been living in Vancouver for many years and now lives in Sarnia
, drove in for the day yesterday. I don't see her often, it's a three hour drive and we had a lovely visit. She brought a rose for Mom to add to the collection. There are now three Mom roses in our backyard of all different colors.
I'm still limping around on my bad food, the one I banged up when we had our flooded basement three weeks ago and I'm sure I broke a toe. It will heal itself but I know from previous experience that it takes about six weeks or so. Meanwhile, I tape it up and continue with life. Someday soon all will be well, meanwhile my sweetie now has my cold. Time for me to take care of him.