Back to life, back to reality

I have a really close friend who always accuses me of turning everyday situations into a musical. She thinks that any opportunity that I can find to sing about something, I do, and I think she's right. So, today's post is aptly named after the Soul II Soul 1989 hit, Back to Life.
The past few days have been nothing short of a whirlwind of activity. Marathon days of cooking, cleaning, running errands, and multiple services have rendered me past the point of exhaustion.
Wednesday was mostly prep work for Thursday's services, as well as the disposal of my Dad's ashes by my brother and mom in the river. In Hindu custom, the ashes must be spread in running water (i.e. a river, not a lake), so my brother and mom went down to the river in my parents' old neighbourhood - a place that was both familiar and comforting.
Thursday we had a pretty early start to a very long day. My brother shaved his head (another Hindu custom), then went to the river to dispose of his hair. We had the first private service at my sister's home on Thursday morning, then another trip to the river to dispose of all of the offerings made during the service (flowers, money, rice, sesame seeds, barley flower, etc). I then barely had time to get home, showered again, and dressed for the service at the temple at 4pm.
We got to the temple around 1:30pm and started setting up. There were a few guys from the temple that volunteered to cook, which I hope was cut down quite a bit due to all of the prep work we did the day before. We took close to 500 puris (roti/flatbread) that we cooked the night before, 3-1 litre pails of chopped onions, 1 litre of garlic paste, chopped butternut squash, chopped spinach, etc It was so much work, but it was the least we could do for the volunteers that were helping out.
Closer to the service time, I took the role of greeter which allowed me to not only meet everyone, but also ensure that everyone knew the rules of the temple (no shoes!)
While I was humbled by the number of people that came out to my Dad's memorial service, I was most humbled by the outpouring of support from my friends and colleagues. I simply lost count at 25 people that came out to honour my father's memory. I have no words to express my heart-felt gratitude. Thank you is not enough, but know that I will forever remember your love and support at such a difficult time.
A very special THANK YOU to two extra special people:
Mesia - It's been a long time coming, but your singing at my Dad's memorial service was always in the stars. Divine intervention played a role in you being here, in town, during our crisis, and your angelic voice being heard throughout the temple is not something anyone will soon forget.
Tara - my "sister" of my heart. My Dad loved you like you were his own, so it was only fitting that you'd be here for his memorial service. I appreciate that you flew home not only for my Dad, but to be here for me and my family as well. My Dad was one of your biggest fans and will continue to watch over both of us. Keep your eyes open for the signs!
After the second service on Thursday, the entire family went to the hospice to take some of the leftover food to the nurses. We took the opportunity to show the facility to some of our family who had never seen it before, and as we were leaving, we saw a single "fire-and-ice" rose (red on one side of the petal, white on the other) in a vase with a dedication to my Dad. It was hard to see, and for some reason, hard to write about right now? It was fitting that it was a red and white rose - my Dad loved red, and wore a red dress shirt and white pants in preparation for his cremation. It was clear that my Dad made an impact on many people's lives at the hospice, and we wanted them to know that we were appreciative of all of the love, support and care that they all offered my father during his stay at the hospice. They ensured that he got the best care possible, and that he lived his remaining days with the utmost dignity. As in life, so too in death.
Friday was a bit of a blur, but I did get to go out for coffee on Friday night with Tara and an old friend from high school who recently moved back to Winnipeg after 10+years in the States. We also went out for lunch on Saturday, but again the afternoon was filled with errands for Sunday's service.
We had the third and final service on Sunday - 13 days after my Dad's passing. According to Hindu custom, if we did everything correctly, then we have prepared his soul for salvation and he will attain peace.
My brother was informed during the last service that, TECHNICALLY, he needs to remain vegetarian for 1 whole year! The pundit said that he won't need to do that, but he may need to do it for the next month.
I myself haven't had meat in 2 weeks, but I did have some seafood today. I am reintroducing fish/seafood this week, but am still not sure that I'll return to red meat anytime soon.
Monday I spent three hours typing a transcription from a 90-minute focus group that my sister conducted as research for her PhD. I don't think I was too helpful as I only managed to transcribe 20 minutes, but I guess it's better than nothing?
Last night, I took some melatonin to help induce sleep, but some good that did - I woke up at 1am, 4am, and 6:30am. Hhhmmm ... I'll need to find another solution, and fast!
Today officially marks two weeks since my Dad's passing. I've barely had time to digest what's happened simply because we've all been too busy to face it head-on.
I suspect tomorrow will be a tough day. It'll be the first Wednesday in 13 weeks that I won't be going to the hospice.
As I write my blog now, I'm anxious about not being there tomorrow. So many times I thought about what it would be like to NOT have to go to the hospice, and now here it is, and I'm not quite sure what to make of it all. I feel guilty? But why? I guess that's for me to figure out ...
So I end tonight the way I started -
Back to life, back to reality, back to the here and now ...