I decided not to go back to work after Bob's memorial and reception. Just didn't feel like it. I was surprised how emotional and nostalgic I felt (while still retaining my characteristic humor). I felt I needed to speak, so I did, and only one other person did (a cousin who related taking a trip south with Bob).

Twenty plus years ago Bob was my mixed doubles partner and my tennis bud. It's hard to believe he was in his 60s at the time! We had some great tennis matches, and Mitch had the pastor mention that in his oration. I talked about how we usually won our matches, as well as talking about all the family barbeques we had there, and how Bob and Audrey became like second parents to us after Dad and then Mom died.

I said now there was no one left to refer to us as "the kids" or "the girls," so I guess we're officially grown up now!

Man, I hate funerals or memorials where the one officiating can't get the name right! Bob was "Bob" to most of us, not "George" as he was christened. That pastor was so bad I felt sorry for the guy.

Good on Mitch that he played the organ for the memorial! That was absolutely perfect.

Anyway, I suppose there will be a fight over the house now between the two brothers, and that's sad. I'm so glad Sue, Charlie and I were always in accord about Mom and Dad, their care and the disposal of their things (at least as close as it ever comes, I think).

So, we'll messenger the grant application tomorrow, and it will definitely be cutting it close. But I guess that's my middle name and I've certainly had success with it so far, so why not? Considering everything, we'll probably get the money!

ETA: Now I feel horrible for dissing the pastor, since he's recovering from a terrible car accident. I hate myself at times like this!