Blending into the woodwork

Nee-nee is gone. Stephanie has said everything I could say about Janine and more. It's funny what occupies our minds (or maybe just mine) at times like these. Yesterday morning I spent considerable time deliberating over clothing to wear to the funeral. I own one suit, a sober charcoal that plays well at weddings and funerals. This was, of course, the obvious choice. But. I also own a bright scarlet faux-velvet (I know; the heart stops) jacket, and Janine loved this jacket. She would also, I thought, have loved the idea of me wearing this jacket to her funeral.

But. In the end I wore the grey suit. Even though this was Janine's funeral, the funeral was not actually for Janine. The funeral was for all of Janine's family and friends, to give them all a chance to come together and consider Janine, and her tremendous impact on their lives, and Janine's absence, and its terrible gut-wrenching impact on their lives. Who was I to upstage all of this with my look-at-me red jacket? No, much better to be just another mourner in my grey suit, keeping the attention where it belongs, on Janine.

The jacket will certainly be pulled out at Christmas, where it belongs, when Nee-nee's memory can enjoy it once again in context, with her family and friends who will remember her.