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Sleep in my own bed last night was a very good thing. Fatigue taken down a notch was lovely for the first hour or two after waking and then the pain returned with fierce teeth. Bloody hell! I suppose the hard chairs, awkward positions, lack of sleep and stress takes more than a good night's sleep to right itself. Tomorrow is the wake and Friday the funeral so I don't see things improving in the near future.

Stretching brings the most temporary relief. Napping helped for 30 minutes of relief. Super strength Tylenol is going down like candy (Hi liver!). *grumpitygrumpgrump* I wrote a short thing for the minister to read at the service. (Others are writing short things, too.) We baked 3 kinds of cookies for the funeral luncheon. <----This made us feel "useful". Useful is good.

I cried a lot more today. I suppose that is to be considered "good" and "useful", too. I hid my tears from the hubster. He doesn't handle me being upset very well and I just didn't have the strength to deal with my tears *and* deal with making him feel better about my tears while trying to be a comfort to him. So weary. Ah well, it is the process, the journey we take as we walk beside the mourners, attempting usefulness and clarity, being human and failing at both in some ways yet being significantly good at it in other ways.

I wouldn't go back and undo how the last few days transpired. It is an honor to witness transitions and assist the dying. It is What I Do and Who I Am in this world and the Other. Transitions-R-Us says the shingle. It never used to be this physically painful. I need to find a way around that part for the next one.

*yawns* It will be an early night.


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