Mother

The best part of funerals is being with family and friends. The hardest part is dealing with the grief, in this case my mother's. She is a strong woman, but even when you've been married to a difficult man ("my jerk" she called him), the end result is that you are alone and must cope alone.

My brothers, my sister and their spouses, my son and I have all worked hard to try to clean up the mess my father left behind. He was one of those packrats of the awful kind, never letting go of anything that might be useful some day or might be fixed or might be sold, but of course none of those things happened. The mess was both inside the home and outside, extending to rotting trailers and rusting cars in the back field. We got a huge dumpster and the only reason it isn't full is because the rains came and haulted the work. My brothers went back to Oklahoma and Arkansas. I am grateful for all they and their wives did, because it was a tremendous amount of work.

The house will be in much better shape when we leave, but it remains to be seen whether the cats will be able to change their habits and use the litter box and not the fireplace. We are ordering a new tempurpedic bed for Mom, which should help her mood and her health by giving her better rest. Having lain on the store model, I am tempted to get myself one when we move back to the States.