Funeral and estate sale craziness

So a week ago we celebrated Pete's life, and I'm wondering if I'm too placid over his passing.  I'm celebrating that he's probably running the lake in heaven, that he's having a beer with the guys, that he's enjoying football--playing it, I mean.  For it's been so long since he'd had the physical power and ability to do any of those things. I haven't yet had time to mourn.  I haven't been alone.  I haven't had a moment to open one card of condolence. We'd scheduled Mom's estate sale months ago, so with the date set and my "team" arriving to help, it was natural and good to follow through with the craziness that comes when setting up and performing a sale of some size.  Pricing, staging, dickering, re-arranging as things sold.

Within 24 hours of my husband's funeral, my focused shifted to my living mother's estate sale.  My daughter called me five days after her father's funeral and asked if I missed him.  I blurted out something like, "Well, I haven't had time," and that was true, but I'm sure to her it seemed a bit crass.

But now the sale's over. After a weekend with siblings to finalize my mother's things, the cards still lie there ready to me when my head is clear enough to turn to them.  I'm thinking the wait will have been worth it.  My attention will be on my life partner, my hubby of 37 years.  And together he and I will smile over some of the memories revealed in the loving comments we'll read.