Today, finally, we say goodbye to our Dad, Franklin J. Chiles. Wish me luck that I don't stumble, sob uncontrollably, hiccup, or otherwise mar this solemn day.
March 24th, 2103
|Dad right before he is ordained as a deacon in the Catholic Church|
And the follow-up luncheon went well.
By late afternoon, we all needed naps.
Today is another story. I was fine until my teeth started to hurt. And, suddenly, I felt very, very, very sorry for myself. Very, very, very, very... So I turned my hand of Hand and Foot over to my Mom. (Who can concentrate on cards with a toothache?) And I started home. I called Hub for a ride and when he picked me up - I dissolved. It was a me-sized puddle of pitiful, pain induced tears that crawled into bed. I am not as devastated as all that wailing implies. Sometimes weariness, stress, and pain induce a huge physical need in me to howl. It's like a dam breaking.
My teeth still hurt. I am still sad. But I don't feel so very, very sorry for myself. I had my Dad for a good long time. He loved me all my life and that love is with me still. I'm a lucky woman.