Bittersweet day

Yesterday I did what must be up there as the hardest thing of all to do for your family. I had a meeting at the funeral home and arranged and paid for the funeral, ahead of time, so that I wouldn't have to do it at a worse time. Very simple, just immediate cremation, no service, no fancy container, he'd think that was silly, just respectfully take him from the house and take care of it.

The director was very tactful and kind, made no attempt to get me to do more than we wanted, just very accepting that this was his wishes.

Then I had to get my breath back, so I drove up the street a bit to the little park where I used to take HP when he was able to be transported in my car, where we used to sit and enjoy the lake and the birds. Ages ago I posted pictures of him there sitting on the bench enjoying the afternoon, wearing a sweater I'd knitted for him decades ago.

There was a little family with their dog, having a lovely summer's afternoon of fishing, and he would have loved to see them.




Then I just sat for a while breathing and enjoying the day and the view he used to like so much



and the bridge




Today he's further away from me, but did barely smile this morning when I was talking to him first thing. Last night our friend next door came back from his trip and came right in to visit, and HP knew his voice and turned his head while friend talked gently with him and held his hand. Our cleaning couple visited yesterday, too, and he clearly recognized their voices as they chatted to him. They all used to have great conversations, they in vestigial English, he struggling to grasp language in the last few months, but they all communicated just fine.

I've been telling him what a good job he's doing, how well he's handling everything, how I'm with him all the time, reminding him of my name, stroking his face and his head, little kisses, which he can hardly return, but tries. I'm hoping this peaceful time is a good sign.