Parts of today were tough, but it wasn't all bad.

We visited the florist at 1000 and got that organized. I was a bit
taken aback at the cost of what I'd call a modestly sufficient floral
display. But Mary loved flowers and she certainly deserved to have
some nice ones around and near her on that day. I won't die broke
if I don't tarry unduly so I really don't care about the florist bill,
just sayin' I was a bit surprised.

My terror of life without Mary is dispelling as I discover depth in
familial support I probably should have known would be there. I
definitely do and will continue to have hard yanks, like getting
into the Camry and realizing that the right seat will never again have
my favorite leprechaun making me laugh as she chides Richard Wad on
the road in front of us. But the road ahead no longer looks utterly
hopeless. At least not at the moment. The exponentially damped
sinusoid will swing back and bite, but sorrow is different from
despair.

We, the family, discussed preference for dress at funeral today. My
Mary will be buried in the clothes she wore on our wedding day at
Gretna Green in Scotland: pink sweater, gray slacks. We have a
photo of her that radiantly projects joy and happiness. It'll be on
display as part of a photo montage Dave is making. I will wear
what I wore that happy day: dress shirt under sweater, slacks.
Suits and sportcoats are certainly welcome but definitely not expected
or required. Mary 'n I both cleaned up just fine when necessary,
but our natural mode was jeans and teeshirt or flannel shirt.

Huge progress in house today. Dave 'n Hassan moved a couple of cubic
yards of fabric in polyethylene snaplid tubs over to his basement. He
has ample room so we needn't make any quick decisions. We're also
making progress on recovering a guest bedroom which is an expressed
objective. I want to have a guest bedroom.

I disassembled the treadmill today so it can be easily moved to the
back bedroom which was Mary's quiltatorium. That room will become
the library with treadmill and it will have some Marymade quilts on
display.

Dave and Kevin each have a surplus futon so we'll put one of those in
the spare BR that the treadmill vacated along with 3 quilt racks and
a rocking chair.

Mary didn't have quite as many sewing machines as I have guns (not
counting hers) and welders, but it was a tight heat.

Zip, good neighbor at the lake whose dear wife Lois died last July,
called me today. I asked how he was doing. He sounded good. He
sounded a little drunk but he always does, I think that's just how he
talks ... or perhaps he's always a little drunk. He's eighty
something. His family worships him. I thought about how lucky he is
to have such family: two daughters 30 minutes distant, Tracy an hour
away in Fergus Falls, others more distant.

Then I realized that I have amazing family too: Dave 'n Kevin right
here in town, others coming from London, Denver and Detroit in a
synchronized staggered relay. Wow! Zip's family is more constantly
in evidence but no family could be more supportive than mine is being
right now.

I've always enjoyed some family interaction but I've never wanted
family constantly in my shirt pocket. Mary and I were a very
self-sufficient small team. She's suddenly gone. Hoo golly!

Son Kevin has been here every night since Mary died, crashed on the
family room floor on a bedroll with a Marymade quilt for a cover. I
crashed next to him several nights and that got me thru those nights.
I told Kevin tonight that he should have some nights back at home
with his girlfriend. I needed a night tender for a few days and he
served that duty very well indeed.

My family, regardless of biological paternity, is rallying around
me with amazingly ferocious protectiveness and support. I must say
I'd underestimated this lot.

Mary's funeral on Monday will surely be a tough trip but the others
dread it far more than I do. I am neither afraid nor ashamed to cry
and even bawl. It's cathartic and a necessary part of greiving and
letting go. It will be our last look at my sweet beloved Mary, mom
and lifemate, before they close the box and bury her. Sweet memory
will have to suffice after that as we keep on keeping on.