The weekend was as good and as bad as you would expect, I think. Nothing went particularly wrong. We spent time together. We cried a fair amount.
Grandpa Lyzenga gave a eulogy himself. When I told my dad that on the phone, he said he didn't think he could ever do that. I said I would never ask him to. It took a lot for Grandpa to stand up and talk about his beloved Tres and get through everything he wanted to say.
When he said the words "Ronald Reagan," I knew where he was going, and he did: the words of the Challenger eulogy. Which is not something I maintain equilibrium hearing in the best of circumstances. Meaningful to Grandpa and also to Mark and me. To the whole family of geeks, I think. Sometimes sharing values with people makes things emotionally more difficult: I couldn't sit and nitpick and try to keep composure that way. Sometimes I distance myself that way when things seem too public and too intense. I couldn't. I'm glad I couldn't. It would have been wrong this time.
Anyone could get up and say what they wanted of Grandma -- that is, anyone was allowed. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I felt that if I did get up, I would open my mouth and just wail, and that would do no one any good. So I sat in the pew and petted Mark's back, and for awhile Matthew's when he looked like he needed it.
I was saying to T tonight, sometimes when I'm at a funeral, I have a guilty feeling of "thank goodness it wasn't my grandma" (grandpa, momma, daddy, etc.). I didn't have that yesterday, because by this point she was my grandma. She didn't have to be compared to anyone else. She was herself.
I always thought Grandpa and I had hit it off so well so early because there was something alike in us -- and I still think that there is. But Grandpa's brother Ted got up to tell a story of how they were at a family picnic and Grandma just looked at him out of the blue and said, "Ted, I think you like me." And that's just exactly the sort of thing I do. Not inheritance there, not by genes or environment, but kinship, yes, oh yes.
Uncle Ted did like her. As he should have. As did I.
I'm taking the next few days off, as much as I can. It's not so much by choice as by necessity: my brain is scattered in little bits, and I need some time to collect it. I'm only really all right to talk in fits and starts today. There may be more fits and starts soon. There may not. I can't really say. I'm just tired all over.