a moving farewell (lyn)

Today is Rose’s funeral.  The church is full.  It’s a beautiful sunny, cold winter’s day.  M and her older brother give eulogies that have everyone both laughing and in tears.  The choir, as V says, is transporting.  Rose, I’m sure, is listening from above and loving it.   As M’s brother says in his eulogy, she was the type of woman who lived by the motto, “If you do something poorly, say little.  If you do it well, say less.”  But today perhaps she'll allow an exception.

After the church ceremony and the gravesite burial, we are all invited to a well-known Italian restaurant (Spinelli’s) for lunch.  While V, who is extremely disciplined eats only lettuce "and a little bit of protein," I have salad, some lasagna, creamed pasta, and take home two mini pastries which I later eat for dinner at 11pm.   (I probably gained two pounds in two days).

It was a weekend more of celebration than mourning.  Rose lived a long life and she lived it well.  M’s brother ended his eulogy describing the scene he imagines when Rose arrives in heaven.  Her parents and husband Joe are already there.  They go to pick her up and Joe asks, “Rosie, what took you so long?  We’ve been waiting.”