Michelle, when I read you were having difficulty making yourself get ready for the service on Saturday, my heart went out to you. It truly is surreal, I know. When my dad died (18 years on November 7 - he was 75) I think we all went into auto-pilot. I remember the days immediately after, as we had so much to do. The two weeks I took off work, however, are another matter. I have very little memory of them, except of being curled up in a corner of my couch, in a very dark room.
After all these years, I can finally think about my dad without wanting to immediately burst into tears. That happened at some point in the last 4 or 5 years, I think. Now, there is sadness, and I still miss him, but there is peace and a great deal of love. I know that his soul is free to explore the universe, be anything and anywhere it wants to be, no longer tied to a body that was failing increasingly quickly from his diabetes. As much as I would like him to have met his grand-daughters and my sweetheart, knowing my dad's spirit, he's doing exactly what he wants. That's good enough for me.
One day, it may be enough for you, too.
Love and hugs,
