up and down...

Well, I went to see Grandad in the chapel of rest, and instantly thought I'd regret it forever. I was calm and relaxed as I walked over to the modern building that houses these private chapels of rest, and the lady said to me, "Are you ready?" as she took hold of both sides of the double doors. I wasn't at all prepared for the fright - I literally jumped and had a sharp intake of breath, as the room was so small, and Grandad was right there in front of me, obviously lying in the coffin. I had thought he'd be at the end of the room, and I could edge in and walk as close as I wanted, but as it was I was right on top of the coffin, and had to edge past with my back flattened against the wall. People who say that dead people look like they are sleeping are being a little economical with the truth. Poor Grandad did not look like himself at all. His skin was taught, with his eyelids pulled really low down over his eyes, and his mouth very tight. His head was tilted upwards with his nose in the air, and his nose looked nothing like Grandad's. His nose was always big, whereas this was very thin and almost hooked. His suit, the suit he wore to our wedding, seemed to swamp him. He took up the whole coffin though, which surprised me. My heart was beating like I don't know what, and try as I might I couldn't get close enough to put my letter into the coffin, so after a few minutes of crying and trying to calm myself down I left and asked the undertake to leave the letter in his coffin.

Then I came back home where I'd left Edward and Elizabeth with Dad and re-lived the horror. I couldn't get the image out of my head, and was quite worried that I'd seriously traumatised myself - particularly as my vague phobia of the dark became so extreme that night that I was worried about getting up to feed Edward.

As the funeral day arrived though I had other things to focus on, and gradually things have got better. The funeral was a perfect day. Blue sky day. Beautiful drive to the crematorium, which felt like the top of the world. Family members arrived outside, and the hearse pulled up - Nan looked absolutely dreadful though peering out of the rear window of her car. In we went to 'Ferry 'cross the Mersey' and Grandad's brother Ken lead the proceedings. I hadn't realised he was taking the whole service, but apparently he had asked him to do that about four years ago.

Time came for Amy to speak, so I went up with her and Dad. I was quite surprised that Dad couldn't get any words out at all, and the emotion was really running high. Amy struggled and sputtered on, and I read out the last paragraph for her - trying to be as strong as I could be finally breaking down on the last words. Ian read out some really lovely memories and painted a good picture of Grandad, then finally the strains of "You'll Never Walk Alone" sounded and we walked out, leaving Grandad's coffin with lillies and roses on top sitting there.

Outside in the sun again we saw the Scottish relatives, and it was all a bit surreal. We dashed back to pick the children up, then all headed down to the Black Swan where everyone was sitting out in the garden overlooking the river. It was a really really lovely afternoon, and as Mum later commented "[Grandad] would have enjoyed it". Ian had put wine gums and kitkats (Grandad's favourites) on the tables, and Elizabeth ran about freely while I tried to talk to Grandad's brothers from Liverpool, Ken and Ron, and the Scottish relatives - Elaine, Diana, and Alison.

We left and later I joined Mum, Dad, Amy, Chris, Stu and Carley at the White Hart where we raised a glass to Grandad and talked over the day. Felt much more at peace, and glad that Mum seemed less angry and resentful about it all.

Since then I've seen the health visitor and been in tears, with noises being made about Postnatal depression, so I'm seeing the GP next week - and who knows where that will take me. Part of me feels that it is just tiredness, but then another part of me thinks that the over-riding sense of anxiety that I always seem to have is spoiling everything, and Elizabeth particularly is suffering from me being permanently stressed.

We're off tomorrow to stay in a PremierInn for the first time since children, and as we've been without a tumble dryer (another story!) all week I dispensed with reusable nappies last night, and Edward has been wearing horrible horrible disposables all day to day so we don't come back to a mountain of washing! He tucked into oatcake and mashed banana for lunch which he seemed to really enjoy. He has been marginally less sick these last few days, and very much more purposeful in his crawling - he likes to head for the curtains, fireplace or lamp switch, and this afternoon I came upstairs to find him and Elizabeth underneath her bed!