brunobaby

Love to you . . . some tears .
 

I'm sorry about this coming your way.
 

My thoughts are with you, Melinda.
 

Sorry to hear of your loss.
Love to you from a friend you don't know.
 

Condolences to you and your family, Melinda.
 

I come by way of Amba, and like IR, I offer condolences.

Jeffery Hodges

* * *
 

Melinda, you're a class act all the way. Jim was lucky to have someone like you fighting for him. Hugs to you and pats to the kitties.

Check your camera phone post for comments if you're still having trouble getting pics onto your computer.
 

Goodbye, Jim. Thanks for every single one of those long conversations we had about guitars, Tal Farlow & all that stuff that really matters.
 

Melinda, I have been following your journey on your blog. My condolences and best wishes to you and yours.
 

I came her by way of Leigh-Anne Dennison's photo blog. Please accept my heart felt condolences for your loss.
 

What a pity that you can have back the him looking out of that picture only by losing him.
 

Mel,

I've kept up with you and your husband's fight through JLS list. I'm so very sorry to hear of your loss. You will continue to be in out thoughts and prayers.

Sincerely,

TexasCarrie
 

Melinda, may you find the strength and courage and comfort you need to help you through this part of your journey. My prayers are with you.
 

Melinda,

Sorry for your loss. Hoping that you are as strong in the next part of your journey as you have been while walking Jim through his. You are a true person.

GN
 

Thanks, everyone!

We got back from celebrating Jim's funeral at about ten last night. "Celebrating" sounds weird but it's actually the first word that came to mind.

It was a long day, since we had the chapel service in NY and the family plot is in Philly, and it didn't help that the hearse driver got lost and we drove around behind him in circles all over Northeast Philly for an hour.

There was a lot of laughter, tears and commemorations. The speeches given by friends and family helped me see Jim, and me, in a whole new light--you tend to get stuck in a certain perspective when you're home ill, or with a sick person, for a long time.

When we got back to NY, whoever hadn't already headed home like a sane person finished the day with dinner in a Thai restaurant across from Village Nursing Home that we'd gone to a couple of times when Jim was at the nursing home back in April.

It feels as if all of the places Jim was in his final months were different chapters, and now is the epilogue. So the Thai restaurant reminded me of that particular chapter.

My dad rode all the way down to Philly with me and even stayed for the dinner. Everyone found him delightful.

Tonight I had the shiva at my house, where I veered back and forth between pronouns. "We..I mean, I..." "Our...I mean, my..." Tomorrow night will be across town at my sister-in-law's house.

I feel like a cart with a couple of wobbly wheels, wavering between tears and laughter. I feel like I'm about to sail off the edge of the earth, but I'm looking forward to the New Normal, too.