Funeral day + 3, and so far it's been quite odd.
Before DH became ill, I had been invited to a garden party thing at Buckingham Palace. After his emergency lower limb amputation in January, my siblings offered to come and keep him company, so I accepted the invitation.
After the cancer diagnosis, and then the stroke, I decided I couldn't go - I didn't want to spend any time away from DH.
But suddenly on Thursday - the day after the funeral - I thought 'I will just go' - I've already faced so many horrific things this year. My DSis had already booked time off work, so was happy to look after DDog.
I bought a train ticket for Friday, put on my new frock, purchased in January, and off I went.
There were a lot of tears, some mishaps around travel due to my befuddled brain, a lot more tears - but I did make it. Looked around the gardens in the sweltering sun, took a lot of photos - all of which I wanted to send to DH but obviously couldn't - and many more tears.
But it was so removed from my ordinary life - surreally so - that it almost feels as if I didn't actually do it, and that it was a weird dream, with today in fact being Friday instead.