I Cant Find The Irony.

*Post tomorrow or Sunday to make up for Friday, (this ones for Wednesday). Sorry team, I've started a new job (which I hate so much) and it killing my desire to write a bit! Don't worry, it'll come back, I think they are transferring me soon! 

“Now first things first, I expect you all to be in black for the funeral. None of this new trend of colours at a funeral, ghastly if you ask me. I mean it’s a nice sentiment but black is my favourite most flattering colour (Ed don’t you dare correct me and tell me black isn’t a colour), today it about honoring me right? There is plenty of other days for bright reds and oranges (except you James, we’ve all wanted to tell you for a while that the dark orange polar you insist on wearing doesn’t do you any favours) but for this day I want black.” I chuckled lightly as I read mums letter out loud to my brothers who were sitting around the table looking up at me expectantly. Just as they had for the last three days.

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The boys and I came home to get the house ready for dad, while Lillian and john waited at the hospital and promised to report any news. George and I set up the sofa bed for dad in the den, we knew he wouldn’t be quiet ready to go into the room he and mum shared. God shared sounds so final doesn’t it?

While Ed and James stood near the front door clearly at a loss of what to do I got sheets, blankets and pillows ready for dad’s homecoming.

George and I finished in the den and went to stand with the others. “This is going to be weird for a long time.” I said, referring to the fact we were in mum’s house and mum was no longer here with us.

James pulled me into his side, “Anna. What are we going to do?” All three of them looked at me, hoping I would have some sort of answer.

“Well today we are going to go pick dad up, we are going to make sure he is ok. Then we have to make phone calls. Lots of them. After that I don’t know, we will take each day as it comes to us, ok?” I said.

“Yes, ok. We should probably start with some phone calls.” George said.

“I’ll call grandma, grandpa and Aunty Bertie.” I said referring to dad’s parents and sister.

“I’ll call Liz.” Ed said. Who was mums best friend, “Unless Lillian’s already done it…?”

“Will wait for Liz, George will you call the staff? Let Mick know what’s happened and ask him to be in charge for the next week or so.” I said referring to Dads long time employee who stepped up a few times for manager. George nodded and headed to the safety of the den to call them, I think he was grateful for a job.

“What should I do?” James asked. I looked up at him, utter desperation painted his face. “Why don’t you call Will’s parents?”

We all headed in different directions to do our assigned jobs. My grandparents were crying on the phone, insisting Bertie would drive them today or they would get the first bus over. They were concerned about dad but they said he was in the best place he could be and a sleep is probably not a bad idea for him.

We met back outside the front of the house, all of us a little weaker because of the calls we had to just make.

“Let’s go back.” I said and we all bundled in the car.

The grief was over whelming, but I still hadn’t really cried yet. The irony wasn’t lost on me.


*I had a commenter ask how old I am, I am 21! How old do you think I am dear commenter? :)