I am a little afraid of when the fog lifts and I have to face that I am going to go about the rest of my life without my dad in it. That sounds really maudlin. But honestly, I am just complacent in the fog right now.
They cremated my dad today. I am relieved. He was held in cold storage since he died and that man hated the cold. The crematorium will be sending me his (get this) cremains. I can’t make this crap up. Cremains? AYFKM? Cremains. Every time I say it, it sounds more and more ridiculous. I asked for a crefund. Okay. Kidding. I didn’t. But that would have been some damn funny morbid humor.
So they are mailing it all to me. I hope it does not end up creturned to sender.
See. I can’t stop.
I have written a Fauxbituary that is crazy hilarious. I had to do that first. Shake all the sick and wrong humor out of it so I could write something lovely that people will approve of. I may publish the Fauxbituary here.
I am so wiped out.
My husband is pretty great stuff for being so supportive of me on this crazy ride. I imagine it is not fun to have a spouse that stares off in to space and forgets to make the kids breakfast.
I can’t say how much it meant to have social networking (+ phones, text and email) while isolated in the mission control tower of my dad’s home. I know only the best people. My girlfriends and guyfriends are all beautiful-brilliant-twisted people that know, instinctively, that cheering me up means saying all the wrong things.
In the meantime, I am sure I have become a huge liability to my husband’s work in ministry. All I do is curse, laugh inappropriately and cry indiscriminately. And drink wine. I am a joy to behold and not fit for public consumption. I don’t know how to do any of this gracefully.
I need to buy waterproof mascara. The stuff makes my eyes itch though.