The funeral mass was said at Sacred Heart in Ocean Beach. I've decided the purpose of a catholic funeral mass is to bore the grief right out of you, instead of being a cathartic release of grief. Lots of 'you become a catholic so you'll see God in Heaven' and a little of 'and now Frank is seeing God in Heaven'. VERY impersonal. VERY long and boring. The eulogies were held after the mass was over. Just weird.

The reception in the hall across from the church was a different story. There were a couple photo montages that they showed on a big screen - several pictures of my young adulthood were there, including a funny wedding pic that Frank is in, and several poker pics. There was one of Frank and hubby that we'd both forgotten about, and that brought fresh grief.

As soon as we could, as soon as we'd seen/hugged/exchanged cards with friends, we left and went to the beach, changed and went in the water. It was a blessed day, beautiful, warm, the water was welcoming and not frigid like last week up at Rincon. I collected shells, the boys all went boogy-boarding, and we ended up salty, sandy, wet and happy. We went to Margarita's for Mexican food, a place that we used to meet Frank at for breakfast. A quick decision led us to hop to my parents' house for a couple of hours, where we checked over the video tape and did garden tours (green beans, broccoli, lemons and boysenberries were my haul this trip), and then we headed for home. The place we really all wanted to be.

The weekend now holds some work around the house, some writing, hopefully some kayaking, and lots of family bonding.

Frank's still dead. Life continues.