When Catherine of Aragon died, Anne Boleyn and King Henry VIII, it was said, wore yellow to her funeral. Up until 1480, yellow was the color of mourning in Spain. It is currently still the color of mourning in Egypt and in general, it is a color of remembrance.
The last 3 days have been the hardest of my life. I've cried, I've laughed, I've questioned my religion, I've felt betrayed, I've cried a little more and the constant literal ache in my heart is not making anything easier.
We buried Larry today. It would be interesting for everyone to know how insensitive he was when it came to death. He didn't want a big sad funeral. He didn't want an expensive coffin. He didn't want people to look at him laying in state and he really didn't want a traditional Maori farewell. He wanted to be cremated and out of that list of things, that was the one thing I couldn't do.
We closed his coffin when he left the undertakers on Saturday morning. He looked handsome in his white temple attire and he looked happy and I loved that. Our nieces Tyler, Shai and my sister Michelle were fortunate enough to see him before we closed the lid. Last night our bishop had to slip something into his pocket and I sneaked one last look with our bishop and my two uncles present.
On Friday night when I left him in ICU I asked him not to go anywhere. He looked at me confused and asked where I thought he was going. I reiterated for him not to go anywhere, to be there when I came back the next day, which would have been at 12pm. I told him I thought he was the bravest person I knew. I told him I loved him and that I would see him tomorrow. When I got home that night I called every hour to check on him and everything seemed ok. A little after 4am I received a phone call that he wasn't doing too well and I should head into the hospital. All the way there I begged please please don't take him from me.
He passed shortly after the phone call and it happened as if he were sleeping. He just slipped away. His heart could not take the work of haemo dialysis and ultimately stopped.
I will miss him. I haven't slept at home yet and when I do come home (because there is internet here and not at my parents place 5 houses away), its painful because everything of his is here. His shoes that he'd never put in the shoe basket after I asked him ten times. His trash on the floor in front of the TV from eating candy his Mom sent last week. His clothes on the floor after a shower. His scent.
I'm a widow at 33.
He made me promise to be one for the rest of my life and he is well worth the wait and that's enough for me to keep that promise. He is mine for forever. We're Twilight without the urge for blood.
There have been so many comments and emails coming in and I'll eventually get around to reading and responding to them all. I'm just at a "What do I do now" point and I need to regain my bearings.
Enjoy the photos of the last few days. They show a perfect send off for a man so loved.
He lay at my parents house, which is bigger. My mums idea to put the blanket on the casket we got her from Mexico.
Flowers from my grandmothers garden.
Our Hubba tried and tried to open the casket to get to her "Clarry". She still doesn't understand, but she'll never forget him.
Tyler, who gave a eulogy today, saying her final goodbyes to her Uncle.
Heading to the chapel.
At the cemetery.
Lowering the casket.
All the kids watching.
I love our kids .. almost in unison they said, "What are you doing to Uncle Larry". My niece Larell was worried because we told her he was up in heaven and she questioned why he was going down if heaven is up.
We released yellow balloons. Hope he got them.
Family refilling his grave.
Jeston and Naz.
Finger foods .. it's what he wanted despite it was 'chimp food'.
My cousin Leonie surprised us all by flying out from Kalgoorlie. I love that she did it. Sided with my other cousin Emma, we complete eachother when together.
We went back later and took all the flowers to his grave.
I will miss him so much, but I know he wants me to hold my head up work through this grief.
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