I got an amazing amount of work done in the three hours I was at the office before leaving for the funeral. The service itself was lovely. Quiet hymns played on a gorgeous black grand piano. Thoughtful-to-laugh-provoking talks from the people who knew him. And a pleasant talk from the pastor, who at one point said, "We don't really know where J is right now, but..." and I wanted to raise my hand and say, "I know! I know! Would you like me to tell you?"
But I behaved myself. I know. You're shocked. I am both bumfuzzled and impressed by the preachers who are doing the best they can with the light and knowledge available to them in theological schools. They bring much comfort to many people, and the good ones (as this pastor obviously was) are willing to share their uncertainty about the details while bolstering the faith of the flock.
Brother Joseph and the prophets who have followed him have truly been a God-send. Latter-day Saints know the nature and character of Deity. We know our relationship to Him. We understand, as much as mortals can, the necessity for both the Atonement and the Resurrection. As Tevye would say, we know who (Whose) we are and what God expects from us. What a comfort.
It was a long haul to get to the memorial service, about an hour and a half spent mostly on the Tollway, then a short drive to a country club in a neighboring town for a reception. (Pretty sure that was my first and last time at a country club.) And then home via Central to the PGBT. I spent four hours in the Tardis yesterday, and I was this [ ] far from being knackered when I got home. Nothing sounded good for dinner, so I ate a little and lay down and was unable to sleep. Got up, snacked some more, noodled around on the internet with no focus and increasingly weary eyes, and was able to fall asleep a little after 7:00.
Woke up at 12:43, almost three hours late for my evening meds, and 43 minutes too late to eat anything because I'm having my quarterly blood work in about eight hours. Middlest is still migraine-y but without the usual sound sensitivity, so I (are you sitting down?) ran the vacuum in the living room.
Yeah. I should probably discuss that with my doctor this morning.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!