Wednesday, December 28, 2011

My reply to a mid-winter email:

Meow indeed, Roger.  It must be biorhythms or something because I'm feeling much the same way.  I'd say I was tired but it's more than that.  Weary I think would be a better description. 

It's the middle of the week between Christmas and New Years. 

Last night Mum and I went to a memorial service for a long time friend.  Mum’s best friend's husband.  I've known him all my life and Mum's known him since she was a teenager.  The crowd was very large for Bart's final send-off.  Audy, his widow, said she didn't even know all of the people who were there.  There were somewhat informal readings of anecdotes about Bart by friends and relatives.  The contingent from the VFW for the more formal ceremony was four strong.  A couple of them broke up a bit reciting their parts. There were seven in the honor guard from the Army who performed the folding ceremony for Bart's casket flag.

"We present this flag on behalf of a grateful Nation..."

They all seemed so young…

I just got back from the store.  Had to pick up some milk and such that Mum needed.  The trees are all bare and everything's dull gray.  It's like the world is halfway between sleeping and dead.

Here we are, midway through the last of my three weeks vacation.  I had expected to be more recharged and energized.  Instead my to-do list seems never-ending and I haven't even begun to think about any of the decisions that were the real reason I took three weeks off all in one lump.

Yes, "weary" is the right word.

UPDATE: I just found Bart's obit at the Wakefield Daily Item.

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