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Funeral
Was cold. Is over. I cried quite a bit today. Not too surprising.
I stayed here at my uncle's house last night because the limo was leaving from here at 12:30, plus I thought it'd be too weird to stay at my dad's place... we went to talk to the rabbi from his synagogue for like 2 hours and told stories about my dad. The rabbi is actually a really great guy, and he just kind of listened and asked the right questions and everything.
We did figure out some passwords of my dad's, after looking through his Palm Pilot. Still a lot that aren't figured yet though. My brother and uncle and I hung around the apartment a bit. I ended up staying up until 2am telling stories about my dad with my uncle.
I didn't cry until we were at the funeral home 30 mins before the service and they had a viewing. My uncle had said nobody would want to see my dad but it turned out he wasn't so bad... we put a photo of my niece in the casket with him... and I just kind of stared for a bit, and said "I love you Daddy, I'm sorry I didn't call you back last week."
And then I started crying, because it was like, he was really dead. Or something.
My brother wrote a speech for the funeral and it was really good, so I just let him speak rather than trying to come up with something myself too. The thing is, the rabbi got enough out of our stories that he pretty much told all of my stories FOR me in his speech and I didn't have to. And my brother cried through his speech too.
My mom was there, and her brother... and lots of other relatives and friends. Some of my dad's old friends from work, too, who I hadn't seen in years... good thing we were able to get in touch with them to let them know what happened. I forgot that George had the same birthday as me, I hadn't seen him in 18 years. Things like that.
Anyway, I don't know, it's hard to write about this.
My dad's burial plot is near the highway, out near Neshaminy Mall, kind of. Everyone was making jokes about how "he would have loved this spot -- he'd need to keep an eye on the traffic report and the weather and everything".
This is really weird.
I'll try to write more later. I'm at my uncle's, my brother is sitting here going through some papers, his daughter is in a baby seat, everyone else is in another room looking through photos.
Oh yeah, so we didn't actually get to see a burial stone or anything. My brother and I will probably come back to the cemetery sometime in a year or two and go find it, I think. I also didn't get to make an ethernet flower.... oh well. It's the thought that counts, I guess.
I stayed here at my uncle's house last night because the limo was leaving from here at 12:30, plus I thought it'd be too weird to stay at my dad's place... we went to talk to the rabbi from his synagogue for like 2 hours and told stories about my dad. The rabbi is actually a really great guy, and he just kind of listened and asked the right questions and everything.
We did figure out some passwords of my dad's, after looking through his Palm Pilot. Still a lot that aren't figured yet though. My brother and uncle and I hung around the apartment a bit. I ended up staying up until 2am telling stories about my dad with my uncle.
I didn't cry until we were at the funeral home 30 mins before the service and they had a viewing. My uncle had said nobody would want to see my dad but it turned out he wasn't so bad... we put a photo of my niece in the casket with him... and I just kind of stared for a bit, and said "I love you Daddy, I'm sorry I didn't call you back last week."
And then I started crying, because it was like, he was really dead. Or something.
My brother wrote a speech for the funeral and it was really good, so I just let him speak rather than trying to come up with something myself too. The thing is, the rabbi got enough out of our stories that he pretty much told all of my stories FOR me in his speech and I didn't have to. And my brother cried through his speech too.
My mom was there, and her brother... and lots of other relatives and friends. Some of my dad's old friends from work, too, who I hadn't seen in years... good thing we were able to get in touch with them to let them know what happened. I forgot that George had the same birthday as me, I hadn't seen him in 18 years. Things like that.
Anyway, I don't know, it's hard to write about this.
My dad's burial plot is near the highway, out near Neshaminy Mall, kind of. Everyone was making jokes about how "he would have loved this spot -- he'd need to keep an eye on the traffic report and the weather and everything".
This is really weird.
I'll try to write more later. I'm at my uncle's, my brother is sitting here going through some papers, his daughter is in a baby seat, everyone else is in another room looking through photos.
Oh yeah, so we didn't actually get to see a burial stone or anything. My brother and I will probably come back to the cemetery sometime in a year or two and go find it, I think. I also didn't get to make an ethernet flower.... oh well. It's the thought that counts, I guess.
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*hug*
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And don't feel compelled to write about this. It's very private, we all understand that, and all we can offer is our collective condolences.
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*sending lots of hugs your way*
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I'm glad you have so many friends around to help you out, and I'm sending you virtual hugs and love from across the pond.
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