blog, that is.
Savannah's funeral was beautiful. I didn't cry 'til we got to the grave site, or maybe back at the church, but either way Melissa's dad had on a moisture resistant suit coat, so it was ok. And her Dad is a really, really nice hugger. And I don't much like hugs. But I'll take a hug from him any day, it's very comforting.
I decided that funerals are the time when most people say goodbye. The level of tears a person experiences at the actual funeral, I think, has some relation to the level of grief they have already experienced, and the level of acceptance at the loss. Savannah's poor little friend sat behind me, and the sweetheart (I know her well enough to know she really is a sweetheart) cried through almost the entire service. As did others.
Me, not so much. I think I was more worried about Melissa making it through the eulogy (she and Brian gave it), and the details piece. And I've already done a lot of crying.
Savannah's parents appear to be doing ok. We have seen them several times, and Melissa and I talk daily, still. They are very slowly moving forward, and it seems to me that both the forward part and the slow part are really good things.
As for my family, we are trying really hard to come out of survival mode. Nicki pointed out to me the other day that I haven't reminded them to be nice and LOVE each other because they are brothers in a long time. I believe in the power of love as a verb, even that sometimes you have to go through the motions, the literal actions, before you can reach the point where the love really is intrinsic. I typically expect my children to at least ACT like they love each other, but lately I've allowed them to be more of "Every man for himself!" frames of mind. I talked with the counselor, and I think it's been the right way to be in the moments we've had, but now as we seek out our new "normal" we need to revert back to the "We are all in this together..." process.
Not proving to be easy.
And that new "normal"? Anyone who wants to clue me in on what it should be, that would be fabulous. Except for my recent anonymous commenter who was so thoughtless, they can keep their opinions to themself from here on out. Obviously, my shift is no where near the dramatic experience that Melissa is going through, so please don't mis-take this as putting my families' situation on par with theirs. But even Bill noted when we were watching the fire department cut up our old van, and we had Kiara with us, nobody chided him about where we got the girl. They knew her, knew she was with us, and knew it was normal. I no longer feel the pull to keep my schedule cancel-able, or the excuse for why the laundry and dishes are behind, or the weird need to protect Melissa from that intense loneliness that real trials can bring into our lives.
My husband even felt he had to remind me I'm still needed! I completely lost the month of July, I don't know where I put it. School starts in less than 2 weeks, and if my oldest 2 sign up for soccer like they want to, I'll commence to running like a chicken with my head cut off. I've hardly seen my extended family for months now, and just how do you approach those people again? "Hey, Dad, I know I haven't seen you in months, but a 7 year old you never met but that I grew closer to than my own nieces died and so I've been a bit busy. Do you still live in the same house?" Yeah. Quite the conversation starter.
Anyway, this is where I'm at. Now you know where I've been, loyal reader, and now I will try to be back. I even have a couple more posts (including pictures of my cut up car) swimming around in my head, that I might get to during this nap time. Or I might lay down. Hard to tell.