Tomorrow is Paul’s memorial. I have such mixed feelings about it. John upstairs is very excited! He was his roommate, and they were so cute together bantering back and forth. I don’t think I saw John smile or laugh very much except for those times.
One of the reasons I have mixed feelings is because I will probably never see his brothers, or any of his family members again. Meeting is brothers was almost like seeing Paul again. Well as least as close as it will ever get.
His brother wants me to read my previous post “In memory of Paul.” This scares me to death since I would rather walk over hot coals than speak in front of a group of people. I wish I had the nerve to do it, I’d love to do it for Paul’s sake. But there’s no way I could get through it without crying anyway. And if the roles were reversed I imagine he would feel the same, and that would be okay with me.
And I’m afraid I’m going to lose it completely anyway, and sob through the whole thing. I’m thinking his family members will wonder,”Who’s that lady over there anyway, and why is she so out of control?” Not being a family member I don’t feel like I have the right, as such, to be so devastated by his death. Silly I know.
And then there’s the decision about what to wear. I know it’s a very girl thing! I’m behind on my laundry as usual, so I’ll have to choose what to wash. Black is definitely out of the question. I have a sort of tie dyed blouse and he used to call me a “hippie lady” when I wore it. I’d like to wear it but it’s much to cold. I’ll figure something out.
And closure? I guess that’s the part I’m really dreading. He’s gone and now we all have to acknowledge it. I’d really rather not.