It has been a long week. My mom passed. I went back to Bama for the funeral.
I have this vivid memory of the morning that I went off to the Air Force....1 Aug 1977. The family all had breakfast. My dad wished me well, and had to gone onto work. I ended up being carried over to the bus terminal at the county seat, a thirty-minute car ride, and being dropped off there by my mom. She offered up some last-minute cash to me....but I told her I had enough. She gave me some well-wished words. I got on the bus....waved to her, and left.
It ends up being this oddball memory that I always associate with her. At least once or twice a year....it'll pop up in my mind for two minutes.
From the funeral? I was surprised how many folks showed up. It was a fairly big turn-out. My mom hadn't been in great shape over the last decade, and hadn't got out much.....but folks remembered her.
After such a long week....I'd like to say that I have a week to recover....but I don't. I probably had less than four hours a sleep per night, over the last five days. I'll get one quiet Easter Sunday to find some way of recharging myself, and then go back to work.