This morning I woke up conscious of my back pain and realised that today was the day.
Dad's funeral.
I was doing a short eulogy and I think my back spasms kept my mind from stressing about speaking about dad on such an emotional occasion.
The weather was dull and cooler which was fitting for a funeral and we set off across the city to the church.
We passed my little Cafe that I would stop at for Dad's chocolate, only a few short months ago. We passed his care home with the church spire pointing towards the heavens. We arrived at the church on the ridge as the wind picked up and the undertakers van was parked at the main door.
I looked around the church grounds and admired the view. We were all in agreement that it was a very peaceful and perfect place for my dad's final service.
The priest was lovely, the music just right, and the small crowd befitting the intimacy of what we were here to do.
The main alter has huge windows as a backdrop, with the Indian Ocean substituting any need for stained glass windows. It all felt so right, that even the wooden pews felt almost comfortable. (I'm blaming my need for an upright back). Everything fitted just right and it gave me comfort and I hope that dad would agree.
I managed to get hold of a local chiropractor who went out of his way to help me by seeing me at his home after hours. After a twist, a needle and a pummel, he gave me a lift because my Uber was taking too long and I am really, really pleased to report that my back is feeling far more comfortable. I am going to bed tonight calm and comforted.
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