Well, the pain is self-explanatory. My stupid right leg. And yet, and yet, there were times during the funeral service for Sam's mom that I felt euphoric. Wow, endorphins do work. However, they didn't last long and I was lucky to just be in a state of equilibrium (which, in my case, means not screaming aloud with pain). Even Sam's partner was surprised to acknowledge that I was "smiling" even though I was in so much pain. Well, the extra pain killers helped a little bit.

What had also helped me set the mood was treating my poor lobster hands to a paraffin bath. Wow, they actually feel soft for a change.

So, the funeral was small, gentle, lovely, with a subversive undertone for which our church is famous. There was nostalgic music (I'm thinking these were the mom's fave pieces, mostly from the swing/big band era), and an outrageous children's poem that Sam read (performed!) from the pulpit. Lots of gorgeous music from the evening service choir. The service began late and went past the presumed ending time. So, it wasn't rushed. We were all invited to take the pots of cana(so?) lillies home to plant in our gardens. Church-John picked up two but gave them both to me.

There was delicious food at the reception (prepared by Sam's partner). I was ravenous and felt the need to soak up the painkillers. Then c-J drove me home, taking the lake drive again, bypassing silly city traffic. I got home close to 4. Oops. Cats milling around, wanting their lunch. After feeding them, I closed my door so I could have some uninterrupted time. And rest my leg. In the evening, I just watched the news and my game show repeats. Still got the Final Jeopardy! clue wrong. Seattle Needle? Galaxy Gold? Mmm ... what-evah.

Okay, preparing for cat shenanigans (but hoping they don't happen), I'd better get to bed and will read a bit from of "I am Pi". Discussed the book with c-J on our drive home. He says I may not be enlightened even after I've finished the book. Oh, Lord! Finally, I was surprised to get a FB friend request ... from SuM! Hee - she'll read my church posts and I guess I'll read her sporty posts. Symmetry of a sort.
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