Yesterday was the funeral for grampa, I cried and cried, and cried even more. We went to the burial sight where I could cover my eyes with my giant sunglasses, but that didn't stop the tears. And the hugging of close family members doesn't help the tears stop. It was said to be at his house without him, and knowing this is the last time we will be there, they plan on selling it.
I know life will go on, but a piece of my love with stay with him always.
We arrived home last night, after the funeral and family gathering, to reclaim our children. They were as wild as could be, that's normal when we arrive home. Ben some how got in trouble with dad, and Ben said dad broke his foot. For the next hour Ben proceeded to hop on one foot all through the house. Ben asked if dad could be "in trouble" for hurting him, "he needs to have something taken away." I told Ben I would talk to dad later. Ben managed to hop into the livingroom where he leaned on the end table, and crasssssh! The circular glass top of my beautiful end table crashed to the wood floor and shattered. ( I was ready to cry, again). Seconds passed, as I realized I couldn't get to mad because about 2 months ago I dropped the oval top to the glass coffee table and crash; although I cut myself also. Ben was not hurt, just stunned. I yelled for Brian to help as Ben and Anna were in the livingroom and I didn't want them to walk in it. Ben's poor face was covered in fear when dad came walking in, here comes for conquences. We were home for maybe an hour and he was already in trouble again. At least these shattered pieces were easier to pick up.
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