Yesterday was a lovely memorial for Jerad at a park at an area overlooking a lake. With the exception of everyone singing ‘Amazing Grace’ I’m sure it would have been just what he would have liked. (And about Amazing Grace, Jerad- while we were remembering you, the song was meant to help those of us who believe in God. That’s all, no disrespect intended. These things are meant for those of us left behind. To everyone else, yeah, I addressed part of my blog to him.)
I saw lots of familiar faces, and wish I’d been seeing them under different circumstances. I also got to meet a few people whom I’d only chatted with over Facebook. (I also felt really short. There were some exceptionally tall men there)
I felt so much happier being around people who loved Jerad- I’m somewhere in the angry phase of grief. While I’m not taking it out on anyone else, I go from missing him to being furious with him for downplaying how much physical pain he’d been in or for saying he’d put off going to the doctor until after his finals.
I worry that I came off as being a little too chirpy. And the truth is that I’m pretty put together during the day- which is odd, since I drive by a cemetery at least two times a day. But at the end of the day, when the kids are in bed and I’m by myself? That’s when I usually fall apart. The morning isn’t very easy either. I wake up and there’s that second where I feel like everything’s fine- and then it all hits me. I remember that he’s gone, and it takes me a bit to get out of that haze.