Holding pattern

It's hot, bloody hot and humid. Yesterday on the radio I heard the forecast that the temps today would be mid-70s, with 50 overnight. However, I somehow picked up a station from Chicago, so I maintain that it's hot... the radio be damned!

So, more non-horse stuff as there isn't much to say (bloody hot).

The funeral was... interesting. It seems like an odd thing to say about a funeral, but there it is. During the service, people would stand up and talk about my father, saying what an incredibly generous, caring, giving person he was. If you had a problem, he would solve it. If something needed to be done, he would do it and you don't have to help. I was sitting there thinking, this is my father? He really did change, and the pastor himself talked about this as well.

Everyone was so nice to me, too. Once they found out who I was they showered me with hugs and kind words, and told me how wonderful it was that I was there and that I got back in his life.

They took a lot of pictures though. A lot. As in, they had my step mother pull up the blanket over my father right before they closed the casket, and they had her stop and pose in mid-pull.

My name was also spelled wrong on everything. I didn't say a word - my step mother had more pressing things to concern herself with, so I was Sarah for the day.

There were several pictures of the family: one of me, a lot of my father, one of my brother, and a lot of my father's family - namely my grandparents, great-grandparents, and aunt. I looked at them and thought with some meloncholy that I was the only one there who was a blood relative.

At the reception, I talked to one of my father's friends who knew him since the 60's and who I hadn't talked to since about '82. He told me that he saw me at my brother's first wedding, but I remember very little from that day which is probably best. I learned a lot about my father from him, which was nice.

I also finally got to talk to my step mother for real. I learned a lot more about her life before she came to America, and learned how she and my father had actually met. She wasn't a mail order bride... I had misjudged the situation and done her an injustice all these years.

After everything, we changed at my mother's house and then Rick and I headed north for a drive. We ended up in Allentown before heading back south.

The lingering impact of all this is my eating habits. I can't say that things have changed permanently, but I am eating better. I gave up soda long ago, went veggie 5 years ago, but I can't say if this will stick. However, it feels right. We'll see what happens.

Edit: I just realized that the last paragraph would make no sense to someone who didn't know my health-nut father. As my step mother said, she now has a closet full of supplements that she doesn't know what to do with.