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Feb. 17th, 2003 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
willowispThank you to everyone who's responded to my message from way too early this morning. It's been a pretty surreal day, with more phone calls than we usually get (or place) in a month. I'd already bought tickets for my next visit, so I called USAir to change them. The wait (not to mention their voicemail being so overloaded that we kept getting busies) was unreal, and it turned out that buying a whole new ticket at bereavement fares was cheaper than changing the one I already have. Andy used frequent flier miles.
The result of that is that we're both leaving at the same time, but he's going to Charlotte and getting to Syracuse at 21:00 and I'm going through Pittsburgh and getting there at 23:30. We're going to try to work something out at the airport. One good thing about bereavement fares is that they're unrestricted, so although I reserved my return flight on Monday, I can change it to Sunday. I'm leaning toward that option since Mom has to work on Monday, so I'd spend the day being beaten up by Noia and missing Andy and not much else.
I'd been hoping they'd forget my promise to sing along with Julie's cello-playing at the funeral, though not holding out much hope since I only offered in my last visit to Rome. Part of it was that I know three different ways of singing Amazing Grace and I couldn't remember which one I grew up with. Mom, Gerry, and Julie sang it over the phone to me, so there went that excuse. The other thing I'm wrestling with is my motive, and especially whether I'd be doing it for Grandpa or more for me. I don't know if he even remembers that I could sing; I thoroughly trashed my voice by trying to sing when I was sick, and I'd like to think it's still good. With a captive audience, they'd almost certainly have to say nice things about my voice, even if I was horribly off-key and breathy and so on.
Mary has simplified or complicated matters by saying she wants no singing since it'll make people cry more. I don't know whether my family's reaction will be to tell her where she can shove it, or whether they'll be happy letting me off the hook. I'm toying with the idea of bringing a notebook along and trying to come up with a eulogy, though maybe she won't be letting people do those, either. I guess I can take the notebook along, try to come up with something, and see what Gerry and Julie and Mom say -- that and hope for a dream which gives me a nudge as to whether I should do anything at all and if so, what.
Since our flights don't leave until 18:00 tomorrow, I'll probably be checking in and I might even post during the day. Andy has a doctor appointment as long as I remember to remind him about it. As always, whether I can check in or not, I'll try to post while at Mom's and/or Pamela's.
The result of that is that we're both leaving at the same time, but he's going to Charlotte and getting to Syracuse at 21:00 and I'm going through Pittsburgh and getting there at 23:30. We're going to try to work something out at the airport. One good thing about bereavement fares is that they're unrestricted, so although I reserved my return flight on Monday, I can change it to Sunday. I'm leaning toward that option since Mom has to work on Monday, so I'd spend the day being beaten up by Noia and missing Andy and not much else.
I'd been hoping they'd forget my promise to sing along with Julie's cello-playing at the funeral, though not holding out much hope since I only offered in my last visit to Rome. Part of it was that I know three different ways of singing Amazing Grace and I couldn't remember which one I grew up with. Mom, Gerry, and Julie sang it over the phone to me, so there went that excuse. The other thing I'm wrestling with is my motive, and especially whether I'd be doing it for Grandpa or more for me. I don't know if he even remembers that I could sing; I thoroughly trashed my voice by trying to sing when I was sick, and I'd like to think it's still good. With a captive audience, they'd almost certainly have to say nice things about my voice, even if I was horribly off-key and breathy and so on.
Mary has simplified or complicated matters by saying she wants no singing since it'll make people cry more. I don't know whether my family's reaction will be to tell her where she can shove it, or whether they'll be happy letting me off the hook. I'm toying with the idea of bringing a notebook along and trying to come up with a eulogy, though maybe she won't be letting people do those, either. I guess I can take the notebook along, try to come up with something, and see what Gerry and Julie and Mom say -- that and hope for a dream which gives me a nudge as to whether I should do anything at all and if so, what.
Since our flights don't leave until 18:00 tomorrow, I'll probably be checking in and I might even post during the day. Andy has a doctor appointment as long as I remember to remind him about it. As always, whether I can check in or not, I'll try to post while at Mom's and/or Pamela's.
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no subject
Date: 2003-02-17 10:42 pm (UTC)Having done the whole funeral thing twice recently, I sympathize.
Remember to breathe often. Literally take a couple breaths as deep as you can and then exhale completely, a coupld times a day. When you are grieving and stressed, you breathe shallow tight breaths without even noticing. Remember to eat at least a bit, even if you aren't hungry. Remember to drink fluids too -- dehydration can give you awful headaches.
For the funeral, I agree with gconnor that funerals aren't really for the deceased. But while you do need to consider the feelings of your family members, you also need to do what *you* want and are comfortable with. If that means singing for your grandfather, then do that unless someone has really strong feelings about you not singing. If you really don't want to sing, then don't. You are under no obligation to do it, even if you mentioned before that you might do it. You can say that his death has hit you harder than you thought and you aren't comfortable doing it anymore. And that's *true*. And if you are comfortable doing it and you want to, go for it -- your voice is lovely, and even if you sounded like Colby when she's getting her nails trimmed, people wouldn't mind. Same goes for the eulogy. If you write something that you want to say, ask to say it.
And remember that things will be hard when you get there. It will probably seem more real. You won't have your usual comfortable, safe surroundings. Try to take some time every day with callicrates to just rest. Especially when you aren't sleeping well (which may or may not be the case) but even if you are, a little down time every day will help keep you sane.
Call me if you need me. Either of you.