My parents have asked me to say a few words at Grandma’s funeral in a couple of days. They are basing their request on some of the blog posts I have written here, including yesterday’s. I am touched and nervous and honored — and I have agreed to say a few words.
I am a much better writer than I am a public speaker, but I think I’ll do all right. For her, I will do all right.
I wanted to thank every single person on Twitter who extended their condolences and offered prayers and hugs. When I mentioned eulogizing Grandma, many of you stepped up with a lot of encouragement. Thank you, thank you, and thank you. I’m so glad to be part of a community that not only celebrates with (and laughs at) its members, but one that will extend itself to hold us up. Thanks, again.
I mentioned on Twitter that I was afraid of crying in front of my children when speaking about Grandma. I don’t mean just regular old crying. I think it’s perfectly okay to cry in front of my kids, especially over the death of someone whom I love. I meant that I was afraid of sobbing so hard I couldn’t speak kind of crying. I don’t know that I will do that. I am very sad, of course, and I expect that seeing my mom and being at the funeral home will cause me some tears. And I’m okay with that.
Telling the girls that G.G. had died, which we did last night, went much better than I expected. Neither one cried; Flora had a lot of questions about when we, her parents, might die (that’s fun!), but other than that, it went smoothly.
Which isn’t to say that I don’t expect a lot of tears, questions, and/or fears over the next couple of days — and beyond. When confronted with death, kids think about it a lot, and always seem to want to address it at the most interesting times.
On a final not death-related note: Lost in the shuffle in the past couple of days is the fact that yesterday was Dan & my wedding anniversary. Nine years ago yesterday, we were married. I couldn’t do any of this without him, and I’ll be counting on him even more over the next couple of days. But I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to do it alone. Thanks, babe. I love you, as always for always.