The memorial service for my step dad was this afternoon. His daughters had already had a funeral in California. We were not asked for any input, not asked if the time was convenient and not invited to participate. My step-dad’s daughters, son-in-law and brother all came in for the service. As mentioned in another post, my step dad and mom were married for 35 years and he spent every holiday with our family during that time. His daughters and brother all lived out of state and visited here a handful of times in the 35 years.
My best friend went with me and it was a comfort to have her there. My sister, her husband and son were there as well. I have to confess I was mad during most of the service. Amazing how they described his life with 35 years missing. We were seated in the “family” row but never mentioned or asked to speak.
Twelve members of the village band (he played in for 30+ Years) were there with their brass instruments. They played a number of songs and for me that was the best part. He loved playing his trombone and it was a nice tribute that they came.
I hadn’t been back to this church since my mother’s funeral five years ago. I am feeling unsettled but haven’t really figured out where my feelings are coming from.
I just wanted to write something down tonight.