Home. Home is where the heart is. Home is where the cat is. Home, most importantly, is where The Bed is. I am back, snuggled into the large and ample bosom of Denver.
I'm really too tired and overwhelmed to be witty and chatty and clever. It's been one heck of a week. Folks, I buried my dad on Saturday. I watched my father being lowered into the ground. I hugged relatives, friends, and folks I haven't seen in ages. Funerals are the most bizarre way to have a reunion.
I even met someone named Cornbread (or Tommy, but my dad always called him Cornbread). And, as Phil is quick to correct, we discovered that Tommy is actually Little Cornbread. That's the kind of family history that every clan should relish. Mmm, cornbread and relish...
I'll get back to you tomorrow. In the meantime, I need to leave a large and lasting imprint on my side of the bed.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Home again, home again, jiggity jig
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11 beautiful people muttered something back:
Enjoy your well-deserved rest in YOUR bed!! You've earned every moment of it. May you find peace and respite now that you're home.
yes the strange conversations, or people at funerals...
7 yrs ago at jayne's nans, 1 of her cousins, said to a fireman cousin, " have you been to any good fires recently?" the fireman answered " no, they do not seem to light them these days !" that was the way the talk was heading !!
strange.
enjoy the rest..
all the best GAreth
Hope you get some sleep, it's well deserved! Take care and relax now you're home ((hugs))
Welcome home.
So sorry about your loss. Hope you are able to rest.
Glad you're home. Home is not only where the heart is, it's where the healing is.
Hope you enjoy your rest, there's nothing like coming home.
Take care
Welcome Home. I buried my Dad in 1999. It never gets much easier. A little . . but there are always moments.
I am lucky that we hold a charity golf outing each year in my dad's memory and so I get to catch up with all of his wacky friends at least once every year.
Enjoy that cat and that bed!!!
Welcome home. You take as much rest as you need.
My dad was fond of giving people nicknames. (wonder where I get it?) Anyway, a coworker had been dubbed Stink bomb John and each time I saw the man, we called him Stink.
Imagine being in a funeral home and having to bite your tongue from calling someone what you'd always called them, because the coworkers didn't know who'd been leaving the stink bombs all those years.
Seeing all those relatives and friends just show you how many people loved your dad.
Yep, it's great to be home. Now we can spend some relaxing time chasing Amos around as he exposes the many hazards of our house.
It is, as you said, good to be home. In your own bed. Where everything looks and feels and smells familiar. Where, now, you can relax a bit and enjoy Amos. And Phil.
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