We arrived and of course couldn't find the chapel. Although I do believe my friend would've been amused by me having to ask directions at the Presbyterian church....... "I'm going to a funeral" I stated, as the direction giver looked me up and down in disbelief, before saying "I'm just here because there's a dance school on"....... I'm not judging you stranger!! I don't care which place of worship you go to..... whether to worship or to dance (or both!)
So off we go again, arriving at the chapel to a sea of black...... oh no!! It's like the naked dream I've never had but is famously talked about!! Am I seriously here in a flowery dress, straw hat and pink shoes?? Thankfully my son looked marginally more appropriate, though still fairly casual...... I considered leaving. Turn around. No-one needs to know. But then I remembered why I was there. To honour my friend. To help celebrate her life, as she instructed us to do. So we got out of the car and joined the black suits milling about outside. I was deep breathing and hoping against hope that I wasn't about to totally offend the family...... when the procession arrived, and out got her sister...... in a jumpsuit resplendent with pink flowers! Phew!! The service was short, but lovely.
Afterwards her family reassured me that she'd wanted colour and that I hadn't read things wrong at all. I only knew her a short time, but the woman I knew was definitely not blacks and greys. She was funny and happy and brave. Purples and yellows and oranges. I was reassured further when the musicians approached the family to ask when they wanted "Sweet Caroline" played...... her sister and daughter confirmed to me they'd been told "You can cry when I'm taken in and when I'm buried. After that, no more tears." That's very much the woman I met. She had told me that she had planned her own funeral, even picked her own headstone because "Sure you wouldn't know what they'd choose!" Absolutely resolute in her faith. Fearless. Our Ward mummy, who would do anything for us. I'm so glad I didn't get it wrong for her....... though it'll be a long time til I have that dress on again...... it's probably a bit too short and being a bit silky it rides up horribly when you sit down...... note to self.......I'd actually never worn it before today, yet it jumped right out at me when I opened my wardrobe at the weekend to decide what to wear.
Back to leisurewear now I think....... not every day, but certainly on treatment days!
After the funeral I was able to push myself to a very short visit into work. I miss my team and it was great to see the couple of them that were about. Plus a few other well earned hugs from people I care about and who continue to keep me uplifted. Lunch with a dear friend and a journey home singing with my son. Softly..... my ear is still totally stuffed :(
Tomorrow is Independence Day. Part 3 starts there. Hubby pointed out this morning "If we were going to Belfast, we'd be in Antrim now!" A good analogy, except for my inability to resist "Aye, but we've still the hill section to do! I hate that section. It's by far the worst bit. They slam on their brakes for no reason!" Well chemo.... slam away..... I intend to be driving at a very steady pace, obeying the stopping distances, and choosing the correct lane..... xxx
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