Still swirly.

Well, the funeral is over. There is truly nothing worse than having to walk behind the coffin of a person you love. That aside, it was truly a lovely funeral. Laughter, sobbing, pain, love, singing, children, best friends, family squeezes. It was everything a unifying and sincere goodbye should be. And grandma would really love seeing the laughter we're still managing to enjoy. My family has never been a very serious one, and seeing Grandpa tease and poke and laugh through such a painful time is a sign that everything is still okay. He's such a champion, and I know a lesser person couldn't move so gracefully through all of this. His ease and peace now is the truest testament of their love, because you can only ever be really ready to say goodbye if you loved the best you possibly could.
We've still managed to squeeze in some friend time, and I'm so glad. Sarah and Katie cancelled their holiday plans to makes the long drives to be here, with us. Another testament to the love that always remains inside the deepest of friendships. Having them there yesterday was far more emotional than being with the family, because they, too, have lost the grandma we knew when it was all so perfect. After the reception and the crying, us girls gathered at the Davis house to play board games and have fun. Grandma knew what having lifelong girlfriends means and she never would have wanted us to miss a chance to gather around the coffee table.
Today we all drove to the Farm to sort through some clothes and things. The togetherness we've all felt this weekend has been just like any other weekend. Even with all the young cousins and new toddlers around, they sort of fade into the background until all that's left is Don Williams and farm days. It's refreshing, nostalgic and a little bit bittersweet to see and feel the health of the farm slowly slipping away while the family still laughs together. The fruit trees aren't giving fruit like they used to, but I like it that way. I feel like the vitality of the farm is leaving in tribute to a caretaker who no longer lives here. After all, what good is an apple if no one can make a pie? And still, we laugh because the farm has grown each of us and given us the ability to bear so many different fruits.
Tomorrow is the burial, which means more tears...but it's nice to know that we'll be laughing again before we pull away from the cemetery. Grandma was an eternal optimist and she raised a family full of glass-half-fullers. These eyes never stay damp for long, and hope really does spring eternal around here.
It's been a hard weekend, but it's been filling. She's so threaded through each of us - I doubt I'll ever feel like she's really gone, but I sure will miss that cute voice.