I am so tired. I so much want some time for myself. It may happen Sunday. My work days off are tomorrow Thursday, and Friday. I have to work Saturday, but then I have two more days off. I did have a day off for Step Father's funeral yesterday, but it was hardly a day for me to enjoy.
Mother played the grieving widow perfectly. She broke up at the right moments. I thought I would have to escort her from the chapel like I did when her mother died, but no, the funeral Bull's of Pakenham bloke did that. Sat her down and delivered a cup of tea. I would recommend Bulls.
Sister was a mess, but with her school teacher background, managed to speak beautifully. Her class room delivery was brill for the occasion.
Little Jo smashed up the Bone Doctor's nose on the morning of the funeral. That was a bit of a laugh.
Step Father's children on an individual basis contributed a total of $950 towards the funeral bill of $5,500. Mother is stumping up $2000, which is Step Father's pension bonus and an extra week's pension. We kiddies will make up the difference. The Bone Doctor will pay initially so that we get the $500 discount.
While I am sure this is plenty of family history and problems with Step Father and his Geelong way children, grand children and great grand children, I am not happy with any of them. I doubt that there will be any future connection.
None of the Geelong way folk came back to Langwarrin where the wake like thing was held. Some were going to, but someone talked them out of it. Get through the city before the traffic gets bad was the excuse. Valid at other times if it wasn't so quiet on the roads.
Normally quite time focused son melted when Mother said that she never gets to go out for social things of late. I did not point out that it was because her husband is dying. Instead I decided, ok Mum, this is your day and I won't hurry it to finish. As a result, we left for a funeral at 10.30 am and arrived home totally exhausted at 9.30 pm.
R has known all along how manipulative my mother can be, but he has now verbalised it. So now he knows what he is dealing with.
I said to R, before the funeral, I hope Mother gets her clothes right. She did, a pale blue two piece suit from Savers, with a lace blouse and a pink hat.
Mother has always had disappearing make up. She started off being well made up, but by the end of the funeral, it had started to disappear. By the wake, vestiges of make up had gone. Yet earlier she had been worried about a shiny face.
It was a crap day. I told R it would be and he could not see why. I said the service will be good, but it will be a shit day, there, I swore, and I was right too.
Poor R. While I was off earning a cent or two, today he went and picked up Step Mother from the swamps of Langwarrin to get her to the train station to go back home to a totally horrid place somewhere near Echuca or Rochester. They missed the train by one minute and Step Mother had to get a later train, actually a bus. R had to take her out for a bite to eat etc and entertain her until he could deliver her to the bus home.
Sister has called and asked if we could take Little Jo out for a few hours on Friday. We can do this. I am so poor, I cannot afford entrance to Zoo as Sister suggested. We will do something. Mordialloch Beach maybe?
I called computer man today about our new non working computer. He said licence problem. He knew what the reboot problem was already before I told him.
Our ex NT politican/NT friend came to Step Father's funeral. He is a bit of proffesional funeral goer. I am not going to his ninety year old's folk's funeral unless it is my day off. I will send flowers. He admired my mother's self control. He said nothing about me mopping up boddy fluids with my hanky.
Hey, we have a new car to drive around in and a new computer and had a great holiday in the UK, but in summary, it has all fallen apart, reinforced by Step Mother saying R looks fat, to his face after she had drunk too many Strongbows thingies.
Very much a case of publish and be dammed.