Needless to say, I don't really sleep the rest of the night. The remainder of the day is spent on the phone, contacting relatives and close friends about what has happened. And trying to come up with a plan that is the least ridiculous about how to get down there, who, what, when and which car.
My daughter, Erin, is scheduled to move into a new apartment on Monday, 10/3. She's all packed and ready. I had planned to take off work that day and help her schlep her "green boxes" loaded with all her stuff using our station wagon.
It is decided that I will drive my Audi on Monday to get there and make funeral arrangements. PMO, Sean and Erin will follow on Tuesday after they all make the move happen on Monday. I hate driving alone for 12 hours. But I've done it before. So be it.
In and around the phone calls, I manage to write Dad's obituary and choose photos that captured appropriate points in his life and reflected his personality and spirit.
I could devote many pages to him, but this series is more about my experience of burying him and saying goodbye.
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