Wedding!

Glorious day. Wonderful people. Happy, happy couple.

And from a completely self obsessed point of view:

I have a new dad!! I needed one of them.

So many compliments, I have been called stunning many, many times AND had my/our parenting skills admired. Impeccably behaved gorgeous children.

My mother looked beautiful and radiant; her husband is both very lucky and a wonderful addition to our family.

Sigh. Lovely, lovely.




Yes, I know. But it would feel wrong to post about anything else. Soz.

Funeral

Death is sad, there is no question about that. Death takes a person away from those who love them, it removes any last vestiges of hope, and it is final. It may bring feelings of loss, anger, guilt, frustration. All negative emotions. For those to whom it means relief, which must always be accompanied by guilt for thinking so, then it marks the end of a terrible time, a full stop to a nightmare.

But a funeral is a beautiful thing.

It celebrates and shows respect for the life of an individual, remembering the person they were, not perhaps the person they became as life ebbed away.

It brings together those who loved the departed, allowing them to grieve and say their goodbyes, each cherishing their own memories.

It allows those who love the bereaved to provide support and comfort without awkwardness. Families come together, joined in their sorrow. But they cast aside grievances, catch up on each others' lives, care for each other and promise to meet up before the next funeral - hope for a wedding.

The service is of comfort even if all the words don't make sense. Regardless of belief, the words reiterate that the departed are no longer suffering, their troubles are over.

It would be wrong to say that funerals are nice - nothing that has a prerequisite of death can be nice - but they are full of love and that in itself is wonderful.

Birthday part II

In the midst of birthday season, I invited them-what-matters to my house today for a generic birthday celebration. This week because there would have been too many absences last week, the weather was unforgiving and a little because I care a lot more than the boys do. They like presents, who is present is of no matter to them at all.

So we hads ourselves a mini party. In which I fretted about the tidiness of my house, ending up with one unenterable room, (I so need an upstairs) and my family and closest friends visited, bearing - ace - gifts, to be rewarded with poncy tiny versions of food and a party bag.

Yes. A party bag. Children present were mine, a 12 year old and a 1 year old. Everyone got party bags bar he-who-scoffed who then complained. Everyone except the 12 year old, the baby and the scoffer seemed very pleased. We have a surplus of leftover Haribo.

Not a party in terms of there being a lack of music or any form of entertainment or games. More of an "at home". Yah.

I love having people round. It's better than any other type of socialising. Except maybe going out for lunch. Maybe.