Auntie's funeral took place today. This is a picture of her, taken on her 90th birthday last year.
Her friend came to stay with us overnight, and left this evening. The funeral was a "celebration", as much as a funeral can be a celebration - of a long life, lived to the full. All three of our boys attended the funeral, and they were very well-behaved.
Tomorrow it's my uncle's funeral, down in Kent (the opposite end of the UK). Also tomorrow, SuperSpouse is going down south to ride trams in Croydon with his enthusiasts' group. I couldn't have gone to Uncle's funeral, in the circumstances. My mother's going down with my brother, and my father is going to respite care - the care-home where he spent several months earlier this year. It's the only way my mother could leave him, since he's too dependent to be left at home - even with visiting carers - and too frail to make the journey himself.
SuperSpouse and Pseudo-Supermum are shattered, tonight. We each had our own worries about how the day would turn out.
I had arranged to meet up with a colleague and a girl who had recently left our department, for a farewell meal this evening. But the recently-departed colleague was ill, and my colleague brought a visiting scholar along instead. So I did get my evening meal, but despite good food and pleasant company, I developed a fearful headache - sheer reaction to the tension of the day. I could hardly bear to get in my car and drive home. I had nothing stronger than coffee and Coca-Cola all day, but when I got home, I had to resort to the extra-strong pain-killers that I keep for dire emergencies. I figured it was better to write off the rest of today, than to find I still felt ill tomorrow.