Thank you! <3
Was just about to post. Feels surreal this morning. As if it's still not really happened.
I didn't manage to sleep the night before last, but still struggled to mentally switch off enough to fall asleep sometime around 4am, set an alarm for 8, just in case. Pix usually wakes me pretty easily just by jumping off the bed and leaning against the bedroom door, which makes a gentle bumping sound, and that's usually enough to wake me to go get her breakfast/first pee break, and my coffee, but since I knew I might oversleep from being over-tired, I set an alarm, just in case. Poor girl had her breakfast late, since alarm clock didn't go off until 8:25am! She's usually fed between 6-7am, poor girl. But she managed to wait and have it a couple of hours late this am, bless her fluffy puppy feet. Sorry Pixie Poppet.
Funeral is at 1:45pm. I have plenty of time to get ready. Uncle Mike came over last night, so I made a quick and easy pasta bake and salad w/garlic bread for the four of us last night, then tried to hit the hay a bit early since I was pretty shattered by that point, but Sam and Uncle were chatting til pretty late, almost 11pm before Mike left last night.
Had another bit of an emotional break last night when we were all looking through photo albums. It was nice, we were laughing at the pics of my bro and I as a kid, of my Uncle Mike after I'd plastered his face in hideous coloured clown kids make up once, etc. It was semi-emotional, but we were all having a rather nice time, and I do like hearing his stories too, about when my parents were younger, when they had their business and first met Uncle Mike etc, and how the haircuts I'd been given as a child were appalling, even for those years
But then of course, Uncle Mike, who has a heart of gold, but engages mouth loudly, often, and sometimes forgets to engage brain before speaking so can be accidentally tactless, even though he'd never, ever intend to hurt me, managed to do it again, and it hit me hard enough in the feelings to give me another gut punch of grief and a flash of anger.
He'd come across an out of focus, half framed photo from the early 90s-ish of dad; side-eyeing the camera with a pretty grumpy face (he often looked grumpy even when he wasn't, lol, he wasn't a natural when posing for the camera, much preferring to be the other side of the lens!) on a rare occasion where he looked like he had more weight on him than was typical. Wasn't a great photo by any means, nor of him. He was a slim and active man as a young man, and again as an older man. Daily walks, working hard, and always being occupied doing something, he rarely put on any podge. But he definitely had a bit more weight in his face than he usually did in this pic, and Mike said about how he looked better with a little more weight on him, and Mike remembers him like that. Which can't be true, since every other photo of dad in those earlier years has him obviously slim, tall and wirey, always more on the lean side, but fair enough. Will and I had been discussing how we don't look at each other and see our real current ages really - I still mentally think of him as in his 20s, as he was when we met, and it trips me out when he says he's 47 now, and vice versa, kinda thing. So I know what Uncle Mike meant. He personally thought dad looked better carrying a little more weight on his frame. But it's not how my brother and I remember him, but mental pictures we carry of people can be like that.
Interesting, fine, just another of those random side discussions you have on occasions like this. But poor Mike didn't engage brain, and said "you should have used this one in the order of service. He looks much better than in those photos. In that one you used, he looked
so old. Like an old man. This one would have been much better."
I said "well, yes, but he I picked it because it was a rare photo of him looking directly in the camera, with a slight smile, and I'd loved the expression on his face in the photo I'd chosen."
Not to mention that all the neighbour friends attending, myself, bro, my bestie etc, all remember dad that way too. I didn't
know him when he was still in his 40s the way Uncle Mike did. Dad was late 40s when I was born, so he was often mistaken as my grandfather when I was a wee bairn, bless him. My folks had us later in life. But even when he was 85, I didn't think of him as an old man. He was still "dad", even when I had to urge him to slow down, and not be hard on himself that he couldn't just get up a ladder and do the things he did easily at 40-60 years old!
Anyhow, Uncle Mike didn't drop it at that, like a sensible person, but repeated that
this one would have been much better for the front, how he'd looked so OLD in that photo, I should have used this one instead.
And I snapped that if someone else had helped me with ANY parts of dad's funeral arrangements, then they could have chosen other photos themselves then, but since I'd had to do all it, make every decision like that alone, just as I've had to do again with mums, then maybe they could have chosen the photos THEY wanted instead.
Then went outside to smoke a cigarette and sob, try to get myself together, because even though I knew Mike didn't mean it in the critical and sneering tone it came across, it still hurt like a gut punch, and hit on a sensitive topic.
There are more than a dozen large, packed photo albums that mum had put together of their lives, our childhoods etc. I still haven't revisited every single one. Because it's bittersweet and emotional, especially doing it alone and trying to choose photos for the order of service while desperately grieving. I also had included one from when he was younger than that even, from when my bro was a baby, with my dad holding his first baby in one arm, a dog tucked under the other.
But the front cover one was objectively a nicer photograph, and a front facing camera close up of him alone, in grey tones, but much better and more advanced focus, and more current, was the right choice for the front of the order of service, and I'd actually gone to some lengths to get that photo ready! Had a friend edit out the messy and unattractive background, so the part with my dad was clear, but the mess behind him now magically removed, and I'd been so grateful they'd been able to do that for me! Because there are so few photos of my dad as the subject, and I'd taken that one, and it was a rare good one, among a dozen not so good photos I'd taken at the same time. It wasn't often that dad was willing to sit still and be photographed, so I must have insisted he let me then, haha.
I did immediately feel bad for snapping like that. I know how good my uncle's heart is, that he didn't mean it like that really, and was just thoughtless and tactless at times, but never malicious. But having to do it all alone, both times, IS a sensitive topic for me, and especially a photo I'd personally put that much effort into being rejected like that hurt. So even once that initial pain and flash of anger wore off, I couldn't stop crying pretty hard for a while, needed to let that grief go through me for a few more minutes, and better out in the fresh air alone for a bit, than inside making everyone else feel low.
Will came and checked on after a few, hugged me hard and said that he hadn't meant it like that, but he gets it, it was tactless as heck, hurtful, and quietly said "he's wrong anyway, that photo he likes is a terrible photo! The one you chose was a really good one, and that yes, his expression was lovely." I was like "I'm just relieved that you see it too, and I have someone else normal around who can see that I'm not taking offence over nothing, that sometimes, my fam can be a bit accidentally hurtful, and pile a lot on me to do, so I'm not insane for feeling hurt, even as I know it wasn't intended that way and telling myself not to be hurt!
Uncle Mike and I did of course immediately hug and say sorry (at the same time, for different reasons!) that we'd never want to upset the other. He knows he puts his foot in his mouth sometimes without meaning too, just doesn't think it through and weigh his words or their impact sometimes when he gets carried away, and assuring him that I know, that it's not in his heart or nature to mean to upset anyone, that's we're all grieving and it's hard, and I don't mean to lash out when hurt either.
Have taken a diazepam this morning to try to navigate today with more grace and patience!
x
