Thursday

Thursday was a very nice day. Friends came in from out of town, and there was an eerie feeling of calm through out the day. Obviously the calm before the storm, as Friday was the visitation, and Saturday was the funeral. I spent all day at my house. Took the munchkin to school, went shopping for a new tie. I wanted to find a purple one, because Mom would have like that. My beautiful wife went through all of our pictures and found some really good ones of Mom, with me or the girls, or just by herself that we could display at the services.

I felt guilty for not going down to be with Dad. But after talking to my brother, it sounded like the house was very full of friends and family. Dad seemed to be doing better, and the house didn't seem to bother him as much. Everyone seemed to be coping with Mom's sudden departure very well.

My 4 year old knew what happened but didn't quite understand what it meant. In the middle of the afternoon, I was reading some e-mails from friends and family offering their condolences, when she comes up, hugs me real big, and says "I'm sorry your Mom is dead." I pick her up, and hug her as tight as I could, and cry "Thanks, Tiny." This is going to be harder than I expected.