Back from Illinois. Exhausted and drained, both psychologically and physically. I broke down multiple times at both the wake and funeral, but mostly held it together. I had the foresight to bring lotso Kleenex.
Seeing my DiL all preserved and made-up for the first time at the wake was the worst. It didn't look like the man I remembered at all up close--too plastic and smooth--but from a little distance, he did, and a couple times, I caught myself thinking, "I hope DiL's not feeling left out. He's all off by himself and no one's talking to him." And then, of course, I'd have to deal with another bout of teary-eyes when I realized that I didn't have to worry about him feeling excluded and that it didn't matter that no one was chit-chatting with him because he couldn't hear them, would never have another conversation with his friends and family ever again.
Been trying to take it easy, trying to ease back into things. But there's tons of work to catch up with that has already waited a week.
And, after all, life goes on.
Received a lovely review at Novelspot for my Inspirations End/Still My Beating Heart chapbook:
"Eugie Foster's vampire stories have everything a good vampire story needs to have . . . The author is a great story-teller, who pays attention to details, creates great characters, and uses a highly enjoyable style. Her choice of words and her use of language gives a very special flavour to these writings, which makes it hard to put this book down. For those who enjoy vampire fiction, this book is highly recommended. "
I experienced the same at my Grandfather's funeral. There is something not quite right with the practice - certainly did not help speed along any closure. I found myself wishing they would hurry things along as Grandpa deserved better treatment and that he would have much rather had us playing cards, drinking a few beers and laughing...
What do you think of http://www.lifehack.org/articles/lifehack/fifty-50-tools-which-can-help-you-in-writing.html
..? I'm getting a lot of useful stuff for comedy editing.
Welcome back home, and I hope Hobkin eats your shoe for being gone so long (what? it's what mine would do). I'm sorry about your DiL, and tell Matt we're thinking about him too. Your thoughts at the funeral are similar to mine, members of my wife's family die with regularity, unfortunately.
Thanks. Very, very glad to be home.
Hobkin hasn't eaten our shoes, although I suspect that's mostly because we don't leave them where he can get them, but he has been an absolute brat. Plus he's acting like he's starving round the clock, I mean even more than usual, even though we're feeding him enough to regularly clean out our veggie crisper. Can't chop veggies fast enough to stuff into that gaping maw. Debbie said hers were also being little stinkers. Are yours misbehaving too? I wonder if there's something in the air riling up all the skunkies or if it's just the season for bratty behavior.
My condolences. I remember when my mom took me to the funeral home so that I could put something in the casket with my dad. I was fine till I touched him. Instant breakdown, tears, snot, panic, scary whimpering sound... all those things you think only happen in books. We aren't very well equipped to deal with loss.