Today's the day, Husband's funeral, and Fio will wear a dress, an actual dress, to honor him. It's the same navy blue dress she's worn to other funerals for the past twenty years, but she got rid of the shoulder pads this go-around, and she'll admit it's a little looser on her than in years past.
As far as Fiorella can tell, everything is in order. The funeral home did its part, the church has done its part, and the family has done its part. The kids went through hundreds of photos to put together books of Husband's life for those who might be interested. Elder son and his wife saved the day regarding the memory book Younger son gathered memorabilia for display. Daughter contributed a recent photo of of her father for display. Fiorella selected meaningful hymns for the service. Most important, everyone was supportive amd cooperative.
But how do you feel, Fio? At this point, I can't relate to the funeral except in the abstract. It's like a stage production I'm trying to pull off--everything has to be perfect, and the buck stops with me. I'm guessing that the abstraction is a built-in buffer that allows me to function effectively during a very emotional time. My mother, I think, would have done the same. Take care of business first, then grieve.