I went to a funeral over the weekend. My first since Steven died. Millie was someone I really admired. She was a gentle woman that was soft spoken and never seemed in a hurry. Attributes I seem to be lacking. I wonder sometimes if God makes some people clumsy and outspoken. Anyway, Millie lived a wonderful 89 years and is now with her husband.
I became upset moments after entering the funeral home. Not so much for Millie, but the grieving I felt, rather than saw. And it all came back to me. The family eating between visits, the picture board and reminiscing, the flowers and the groups of people speaking softly. I needed to get a grip, so turned to look at a painting on the wall. I reminded myself to think of this as a celebration of a life well spent.