This weekend was a funeral. Though it really should have come as no surprize, the shock of seeing things laid out was still pretty hard. I know that I'll recover after a day or so..."Cows need milking", as Momma Cecil would say. Life is for the living and grieving, though important, has it's place and needs to stay there.
After 6 years together, my partner and I are no more. I know that Father has a plan and this must be part of it. That's mighty hard to see right now. I just see a large part of my dreams, desires and small hopes lying in a casket. I know that tomorrow will be better. But I live in today.
When we buried Momma Cecil, Daddy Cecil (a baptist preacher of over 50 years) said to me that funerals aren't about the dead, but rather about those who are left behind. What happens when you're both?
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