Sometimes it seems that bad, but it's not.

A rough week to say the least.

For starters, Grandma's death took me by surprise. I can't believe I've lost two grandparents in as many months. Her funeral on Friday was beautiful. They had to move it to a church in a neighboring town because the POC parish was too small. That was a little sad because that was the church she went to every Saturday. Her funeral mass was attended by 19 priests and officiated by the bishop. The firstborn grandchild (this included me) of each her 14 children carried a rose during the presentation of gifts.

There is something incredibly comforting in the ceremony of Mass. The chanting of the priests in Latin. The smell of incense. The sprinkling of Holy water. The bells ringing. I breathed it all in. I think one of the hardest parts is to watch the grief of my father. I've seen my father get tears in his eyes many times--almost always involving his grandkids. But only twice in my life have I seen him truly cry. Once at my grandfather's funeral and once at Grandma's. The other hardest part will come at the next holiday gathering that does not include Grandma.

We are plugging along with life--washing baby clothes, nursing bras, blankets. Tomorrow I have another doc appointment. Early this morning I shopped with D for things to pack in the hospital bag.

During the middle of last week I was having a truly horrible day. No sleep and a headache that lasted from the time I opened my eyes in the morning until the time I fell asleep that night. But once when I was taking some laundry out of the dryer, both girls came in to help. I realized that life is okay. Even when things seem that bad, they really aren't. The important life affirming things are still there.