my chains are gone

I first heard that version of Amazing Grace when Nic sang at Granny's service in June right up there in the middle of new Curry chapel.  Pretty soon we were back up in there with Noler and the grands grieving like all get out once again. As with any death, there were details to attend to and papers to sign.  It took about a month to get his death certificate because he was a DOA transport from his residence in Jackson.  We never did find the truck key and an angel of a locksmith opened it so we could get big Red on the road to Lake County and Miss D.  Alli did one of her two stops at the crematory for a box so that his remains would come home with us plus a lot of potted plants and memories.  The pall is dry now and will be saved for a memorial ceremony (in a fire pit) at a later date, after the burn ban.  

When my father fell with a strangulated hernia shortly after, I thought it would be a quick fix because he was basically healthy.  He ate well, had some control issues and didn't know how to deal with mama trying to "fix" everything.  The next six weeks were a lesson in modern healthcare delivery, geriatric style.  The pain that he asked for help with turned into a huge mishmash of SNF and surgery until he eventually just gave up the ghost.  He was 83 and had lived a good life but still...that was a lot of shit to digest. None of us had the capability of caring for Mom at home so there she went to the cute little room at the home where sometimes they're nice, and sometimes grumpy.  She shares a bathroom with Ms. Bobbie and can't see to play bingo, so there you go.  Pure misery.  I sure do hope that cast came off today.  

This past week is a blur and I hope I remember enough about it to stay humble and grateful.  Every single person that I reached out to gave me their hand and held mine. I would name you all but that might open a whole 'nother can of worms so I digress.  Just know that this old girl is mighty grateful for the posse that's got my back.  

^j^