Yesterday was a rather strange day. Normally Friday is a transition state between week in and week out. FD SCP does bustles about doing house things and I have to keep a low profile. In effect we have to transition from interaction state to another.
But yesterday the day commenced with me taking FD SCP to Nawth Alibam’s Shining City on the Hill to have her cardiologist check the flow in her legs. They do this every year and periodically put stents in. As with almost all medical activities these days it involved long periods of tedious waiting and as with most, the activities were painful. More for her than for me although I find that medicalists purchase hideously uncomfortable furniture. But that opinion probably reflects my own shattered coccyx.
Part of the wait was due to the tardiness of the technician who actually administers the test. Evidently these people combine a rare azimuth of training with rather low pay creating a situation where they have no great incentive to be at work but are rare enough and cheap enough that replacement is difficult.
Anyway after a couple of hours of hurry-up-and-be-uncomfortable, we got to retread our way through the city and return to Arab, not to resume our interrupted want but to re-attire ourselves and depart for Gadsden to attend the funeral of my last, best aunt. I normally do not attend funerals. I have detailed the reasons previously, but this was a different situation. My presence, short of my own discorporation, was demanded for family reasons. I suffer these things for the same reason I suffered social requirements on the job, however much I detest and loathe them.
This one was a situation where I was unsure of whether to laugh or cry. Neither seemed acceptable in the environment. This was not one of those funerals to help the attendees come to grips with their loss. Rather it was a curtain call for the discorporate. The whole activity was orchestrated, choreographed by her. At least the minister knew her. Too often the minister press-ganged for these things has no knowledge of the person. And the contents were well done and not bragging, but they were scripted and directed.
I am uncertain if the immediate family got much closure with this. They are used to her and I hope prepared for the form. But I did find myself feeling sympathy for those who attended and did not find the solace they came for.
Then we packed up and returned to Greater Metropolitan Arab. I reflected how the day had progressed. It had started with a great uncertainty. Going to physicians who have cut on you and told you the cutting is not permanent always carries the uncertainty than another ritual slashing must be endured. That threat has been alleviated, at least for one year. And then we went, for social reasons, to a funeral. And it never got beyond that point.
Hence I am happy to be returned to a semblance of regularity today. My morning constitutional is complete, and well done, and now I may seek for a bit of reality amidst the artificiality woven by humans.