More about Pat's death, courtesy of my obsessive need to tell about it:
The rain had stopped by the time we got to the cemetery and it wasn't even terribly humid. The priest said the words and we added one of the few nontraditional activities I wanted: "Irish Dirt." George had gotten this at some kind of funeral directors' convention; it's a fairly large green container with authentic soil from Ireland, according to the info on the package. A. had put some in a round bowl and great-grandson J. held it as each person took a pinch and dropped it on the coffin along with a flower.
Wonderfully, as we glanced away from his grave, we saw a tiny frog perched on a nearby tombstone. An omen or some kind of mystical "sign"? Oh, no, I don't think so, but it was a pleasant reminder that the earth has riches and that my husband is now part of them.
Back at the house, we welcomed a big crowd; I'm so glad we had it here rather than at a restaurant. Everybody moved around, chatting and laughing with relief, and eating the good food provided by friends, as well as the Sacco subs we served, courtesy of Mike. It got warm and sunny and some sat on the front porch. People slowly trickled out after a few hours and only my children were left.
In a strange way, it was a good and satisying few days. So many attendees remarked on the simple beauty of the funeral, family and friends gathered to support me, and I believe Pat will be remembered for many years.
Daughter Ellen had to leave on Sunday, and after sons, DIL, and I took her to the airport, we went to Atlantic City. We (foolishly) gambled a bit, showed N. some of the sights, and ate in Margate. The next day, we met A., hiked at Batsto State Forest, then had lunch at a Mexican restaruant in Hammonton. The boys and N. left on Tuesday morning.
I've gone back to the cemetery three days since then, to get flowers to perserve and ribbons to save (but why? To what purpose?), then with sister Betty on the anniversary of her son's death.
There's more to record about all this, but I'll just do it as the spirit moves me. Overall, I still have such a feeling of unreality, as if the people around me suddenly started walking on the ceiling. I assume that will pass.