Monday, May 11, 2015
Sometimes I have to shake my head
We attended Bill's brother's funeral on Saturday. It was a sad occasion, but Bill vowed to stay strong, and he put up a good front until the very end when he was asked to be a pall bearer. He had to place a rose on top the casket as it was placed into the hearse. He shed a tear, tried to choke it back. I wrapped my arms around him and he released a sob, then did his best to recover, chastising himself for being emotional. Breaks my heart that guys aren't to "feel."
I cried a lot Saturday, and so on Sunday before my son and his family arrived on Mother's Day, I definitely needed foundation makeup under my eyes. I stood in the bathroom, looking in the mirror at my pathetic image. I dabbed the make-up sponge into the pot of makeup, then I swiped it gently under my eyes. The first swipe didn't do the trick, so I dabbed again. And again. And again. And again. I thought, Gee I must have cried a lot! It's not even concealing my white bags.
After a fifth swipe I looked into the palm of my hand and noted that I had been swiping the lid!