Clock Says 7:00am. Body Says 8:00am.

I don't care which clock time we use, I just wish they'd leave it at either DST or EST and not change it!  I can remember when it came to a vote here in Michigan it was voted down.  Congress put it through anyway.  And NO--it was not put through for the farmers--they hated the time changes.  It was pressure from the UAW--at least in this state.  The day shift workers wanted more daylight in the spring and summer, after they got off work.
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I thought of something last night, as I was falling asleep.  The day before my best friend died, right after I left the Hospice unit of the hospital, she told her daughter (Pam's age), "Keep an eye on Aunt Judy.  Make sure she is okay.  This is going to hit her hard."

Now--that's strange.  She knew of my penchant for not crying at funerals.  We had talked about it and she thought I was weird.  "You should mourn--right then.  Get it out and it will be easier to get over."  She knew this because she was there when my Mother died and I didn't cry at all and then, six weeks later I had a near breakdown.  I was with her a few years later when her Mother died, and Arlene bawled her eyes out, but seemed to recover quicker.

I don't know why.  I guess it was the way we were raised--my sister doesn't cry at funerals either--even when it was her own young son.  We cry in private, but never in public.  Something told to us when we were little about how the person has gone on to Heaven and if we cry, it means we are selfish for wanting to keep them here in pain and sickness.  Something like that.

I remember seeing my mother cry at her mother's grave side and I wondered what was wrong with her.  Why was she carrying on like that?  She never cried!

I didn't cry during Arlene's visitation or funeral either.  Comforting her children and I didn't want them to break down.  I went with Bethie, we sat together and walked out together.  I got to the casket, one more time, and I felt like I had been hit with a thunderbolt.  I broke down completely.  Couldn't walk.  Shaking, thought I was going to faint and remember being so embarrassed.  Thankfully, Arlene's little brother came over and helped me out to the foyer of the church or I would have fallen on the floor in a heap.

I drove out to the cemetery in the funeral procession, beeped my horn, as I always had, when we passed by her house.  I was perfectly fine.  Up close to the grave site.  Then it was over. People were moving away to go back to the church for the luncheon.

It hit me again.  I didn't want to leave her.  I wanted to open up the casket, shake her and tell her to wake up and come on.  I don't think I was even in my right mind.  I do remember knowing that I had to get up to the casket so I could touch it.  I hadn't had my second hip surgery and I could barely walk.  I remember that my cane kept sinking into the ground and I kind of stumbled to the casket and bent down and whispered to her and kissed the casket.

All this emotional display was so out of character for me.  People must have thought I was crazed.  I'm sure I embarrassed them. I know I embarrassed myself.  People perceive me to always be in control, tall and strong and comforting and there I was, being an obscene mess!  It was almost like I stood watching the woman, who looked like me, move about the scene.

I don't remember the rest of the day.  I did drive back to town and to the luncheon and I must have talked to people and I did drive all the way home, but for the life of me, the next day I didn't remember any of that part.

Weird.
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74 degrees here on this lovely Indian Summer day.  I got my leaves all taken up and my lawn's last mowing.  

Then a nice walk and visited Pearl.
Laundry all done.

A troubling phone call from Pammie.  Tomorrow is her last day working for Jennifer.  She's been doing that job for a decade.  Jen put Evan in Montessori School three days a week.  Husband is still not working, so he can hold down the fort.  They don't need Pammie anymore. (They can't afford Pammie anymore).

She does have an interview at the Brighton Meijer's store tomorrow.  The same one where Dar works.  I will NOT tell Dar.