I could say “what a week”, but i don’t think that quite sufficiently expresses what I have been through recently. In fact, the words “toughest week of my life” come closer, but still, somehow, falls short of the mark.
I completely lost it when her coffin sunk into her grave. I don’t think I have cried so hard for the longest time. I should also say, that I doubt that I would have survived the day, if Steven hadn’t been there. His words after the funeral service, gave me just enough strength, to get to the cemetery, and following that, just enough to get me home, and to sleep.
I’m back in Cairns now. Mum is still in Atherton, still tying up loose ends regarding granddad, and the house, and nana’s estate etc. She may be around here for six weeks or so, she’s not sure yet. Dad has already headed back south again; my sister and her family are in New Zealand; and somehow, I feel like I’m where I belong…