I couldn’t wait to get back to normal because I thought this week was anything but.

I mean I was at a funeral facing a pastor I hadn’t seen in thirty years and let’s just say I haven’t been religious about attending church services; a childhood crush that dated back to a time when I wasn’t allowed to wear lipstick; and a teacher who I admired deeply but whose very voice could make me tremble with fear.

Let’s just say it was a long week.  Did I mention my grandmother died too?

And oh yes I was facing all this with a sixteen year old son, a six year old son, a spare sixteen year old niece who happened to be visiting, and a new husband no one had ever met.

And oh yes, I dyed my hair last week and somehow it came out black. Which would seem fortunate as I was attending a funeral but made me feel like Liza Minnelli on a somber day.

And I had an economy size box of tissue with me at the funeral which was of course …sad, but my box was more for the stuff coming out of my nose which was enough to make a stranger weep.

It was a rough week.

But as always the good was mixed with bad.

My teenage son got thrown into a maelstrom of relatives he’d never met, high school friends, and appropriate gestures and he performed admirably.  Even better, he didn’t even have to perform.  He was kind, mature, and aware on a day that didn’t have much to do with him.  I underestimate him sometimes, as you all well know.

My six year old was charming and delightful and a joy as small children can be at a funeral.  He asked me if they could announce Grandma’s name one more time just to let everyone now who was in the wooden box.  I said I think we are all aware but thanks for using your quiet voice just then.

The spare sixteen-year-old niece was at her first funeral and she had only met the star of the show one time.  She said she kept quiet because she didn’t want the conversation to be too much about her.  She was as aware and kind and helpful as she always is.  I think of myself at her age and marvel at her thoughtfulness.

Many high school friends and other acquaintances from long ago came to show their respect to a woman who was long in their past.  No one would have blinked an eye if they didn’t show up but they did.  It touched us.  Some of them said kind words and stood to speak though to do so they had to hold back tears.  They were braver than I.

I spent the weekend facing my past and now I am back home confronting my future.  I have lost one grandmother but I have gained a few new friends, welcomed some old family back into my life and look forward to things to come.  In a sense the week WAS just like normal life.  There will be good; there will be bad; my attitude just depends on which side I choose to live in.