I have an almost rock solid rule against funerals, for various reasons. I I make a feeeeeeeew, very very few exceptions.
I didn’t make it to the funeral, today.
But I tried.
I dressed up (considering I only own about 3.5 outfits, this isn’t actually the easiest thing for me).
I did the “pretty” thing, with styled hair, and makeup.
I got in the car (borrowed in advance, just to do this thing I don’t do) & left (only about an hour late, but these things run long, funerals, memorial services, receptions. I was hoping to be there early, and leave early but was okay with arriving lateish, and leaving when I could.
I front loaded on emergency anti-anxiety meds
I still didn’t make it.
I just couldn’t do it.
I wandered around the marina for awhile, attempting to. It was a gorgeous day out. Absolutely stunning. A summer day in the middl of winter. I should have been able to go the extra few hundred yards. I did not.
But I DID go buy a care package in pieces here and there and tuck it in the doorstep of my friends apartment (after eeling into the secure building, shhhh), with orchids since I couldn’t find strawberry plants, and smoked salt caramels, and a bottle of good gin, and bubbles. All wrapped in white.
I’m not the kind of person who is good at ritualized mourning and celebration. I’m the kind of person you call in the middle of the night who drops everything to be there for you when someone has died, or needs to.
But I tried. I tried to be there.
As far as successes go, it’s a fairly half assed one. But it’s the best I’ve got, right now.
