Such a weird feeling to be back at home and someone is missing, ok he was missing at the airport too, but somehow I expected him to sit in his usual spot on the couch, with his feet resting on the table, just being maybe too weak to do all the travel. Well nobody was sitting there, and nobody was awaiting my arrival at the house. There is a nice picture of my dad on the shelf, with a red rose and a black ribbon in a vase beside it, in front of it is his wedding band and a candle. Weird up til that point I really couldn't look at any of his pictures yet, and even now it's hard and makes me cry every time, where my mom seems to find comfort in it, she constantly stands by his pictures when she has conversation with people. The only time I have seen her tear up is when she talks about the night they saw him laying in the hospital, even so he was relaxed and at peace.
There is a whole container of condolence cards, I yet have to read all of them. I can only handle a few at a time. Somehow one expects for dad to walk in at any moment, it just is not reality yet, well it is but it is still unbelievable. I am so glad I am here. It helps so much to talk and remember certain things with people who have been there and remember too.