Stay out for awhile, please

It has been a long time since writing. The week has flown by with its share of holes and heavens (okay, the word 'heavens' is a stretch whereas 'holes' isn't:).
The funeral happened. Grandma didn't look good in mortician death; I kept my eyes on her white puffy hair (done one last time by my aunt) and her lovely long-fingered hands. All the cousins were there, and all knew by the faces how much Grandma had measured her years, through care, devotion, love.
My eulogy went fine. I'm used to public speaking. However, so many other things popped in my feeble mind later that I should have said. Yet I felt glad to have been able to express my love for her.
The trip to the cemetery was wet and cold. The tent was up; water dripped all over the back of my sister-in-law's hair; the brightest thing was the white coffin, with pinkish red roses in design on it. I wanted to touch it before it was interred, so I did. The preacher finished up quickly, and we left with a few more hugs. Grandma didn't want it to be "Brrrrr!' for us at her funeral, but it was. I'll have to visit in the spring and plant flowers instead of picking her up for our birthday plant trip.
All in all, we were resigned to the good life and ending of our Grandmother.
Yet I did have my moments of wanting to block God from entering our doorway again. "Stay out!", I imagined saying to him angrily, especially where it concerns my dad whose heart is acting up again. Stay out, please God. Although you are not the creator of death, you are the creator of life and responsible for all that it could possibly entail. So, please wait awhile before the carriage (as Emily D. poeticizes) shows up to carry one of us to Eternity. Please.
The rest of the week has been a blur --- ministry moments, mother/daughter crisis (currently ending), emergency interesting casserole with kitchen madness galore, nice talks with friends, appreciation of husband, cleaning, reading, a few seconds of introspection. Life.
Well, Christmas season encroaches. It feels harried already. Now to slow down, now to slow down if possible.
Until next time,
Love,
Fieldfleur