So the last week has been really rough.
Carl's services were beautiful. There was a rosary on Thursday night and mass & gravesite service on Friday morning. My dad was a pall bearer. I can't go into details without getting weepy, but throughout the tears, there was also some laughter.
This last week has had me almost in a tailspin. I've known Carl my entire life. He was my dad's best friend. His girls were like my cousins. We went on trips together. His death has me fearing for my own dad's life. I have always been afraid of my dad dying. I don't know how I'll get through it when he does die, but after losing Carl, the possibility of my dad (or, really, anyone else close to me) dying has consumed my thoughts.
I don't think of these things consciously, they just take over when I don't have anything to focus on. My mind starts to wander and all of a sudden, I'm imagining the phone call I'll get or begin to eulogize my dad and start tearing up. Of course I immediately change my thoughts when I realize where my mind is going, but I hate that my mind's going there in the first place.
Ugh. Death is so hard.
The last funeral I went to was 15 years ago, for my cousin John. It was a short chapel service at the funeral home, then the graveside service at the military cemetery. Carl's service was a 2 day event and it just drained me. Because we were so close with the Rath family, we saw more than I think we really needed to see. I've never experienced such grief first hand, much less second hand, until now. I think experiencing that grief exaggerated my own and brought forth all this anxiety that had laid dormant.
Ok...I have to get off this subject for now...but, yeah...death sucks.
Bakewell Tart Muffins
22 hours ago