Today we went to our brother Andrew's church and met with his pastor and talked about his memorial service. Shane was great. I told him that the church reminded me of running monthly youth rallies at Wecker Rd for 2500+ people in the late 1980s. He knew the place well. Later I asked a couple of old friends to help us out with music on the day.
We went to Andrew's unit, mainly just to be there. For me, this brought his absence home more so than the cremation. I 'd stayed there several times, cooked for him a lot and helped him previously when we wasn't well following surgery. We discovered a few gems, and talked about what things of his to place at the service as memories of him.
Thanks to my parents, Andrew was a much travelled man. That's a whole story in itself. But his great love was music and I found the last CD he recently told me he'd bought - Vika and Linda Bull's greatest hits double album. That's going on the memorial table.
Back at Mum's I had a sleep because this exhausts me and I haven't been sleeping well.
I cooked for Mum for the second night in a row. [Two days ago I went grocery shopping for the week ahead. I had been in quarantine for 2 weeks so I went a bit crazy and bought fish heads on sale. I decided to make fish head soup for Anne and I. As you do. Of course, Mum was never going to eat it. The soup turned out to be very ordinary but I have an EPIC photo. Don't mention the eyeballs!]
For most of the evening I have been scanning old papers, including Andrew's adoption papers. The adoption fee in 1965 was 2 pounds 10p. Such a story represented by just a few pieces of paper.
Also old photos, including lots of early stuff from our parents and grandparents. My aunt had sent a photo of their paternal grandmother which is the first one I've ever seen of her. And much more photo epicness.
My good friend David lent me his guitar so that I have something to play during these next few days, as much for my hands as for my heart. Tomorrow brings service planning and talking about a most unique life.
Jan Richardson's words keep speaking to me deeply.
I've been away from Yvonne for 16 days with another 9 to go... sigh.