Oh, boy. The Catholic Memorial service was held this morning. We expected maybe 40 people and got about 275, with huge outpouring of Special Olympic participants and coaches. It was unexpectedly wonderful and I got the great honor of introducing them all around to my family who has not met them and got to thank them all and tell them how wonderful they are.
Most heart-wrenching was Ruben, who could be called my sister's boyfriend; they were very similar in ability and I think they were great friends with huge unapologetic affection. At the service what he said was so simple and heartfelt and he wept and prayed and really choked my dad up. He gave my mother a little shell bracelet he made for her.
Lots of people wore purple in Heather's honor. Scott, Mark and I all gave eulogies. I pinched Mark just as he was trying to start and he announced it to the congregation as: "Mooooom...Heidi's pinching meeeeeeee." I am nearly 40 years old and cannot restrain myself from such infantile behavior.
There is less keening and wailing as energy is on the wane. I believe that the notion is that the sadness remains but gets more bearable with time and this seems to be true. Do I want to feel better?
My parents house is bursting with comfort food as well as family and friends.
At an impromptu lunch after the service, I got to sit with a very amusing and charming friend of my brother Scott and I must say he was not only perfect company, but had been through a similar experience as a younger person. I am so glad that there are marvelous and intelligent young men out there who know exactly the right thing to say.
Now I get to check in tomorrow and see if I still have a job. Wheee.