The weekend that felt as if it would never end has, in fact, just about ended.

There were two round trips out of state for the funeral service and wake. The wake was rather lighthearted with much reminiscing and hugging but I always experience anxiety at the end of the night, when everyone leaves for the evening. To leave the one you love there, at the funeral home, it breaks my heart.

And the funeral, with bagpipes playing. That, too, was a blow.

We got home late Saturday and I just about fell into bed. And was so rudely awakened this morning by the clumping of the hockey bag coming upstairs. And today was all about hockey. The boy played in two games and then we stayed to watch the semi-pro team play.

There is something about watching your son (or daughter) just get it. Whatever it happens to be. For some it's music, for others art. For my boy, right now, it happens to be hockey. He played one of his best games ever today. Skating and dekeing like he'd been born to do it. Perfect positioning, on the tape passes, poke checks...it still amazes me.

And the second game, a scrimmage on the Providence Bruins' ice. His absolute highlight? Hearing them say "Goal scored by Number 11, *Jenny's Son's name here*" over the loudspeaker. My highlight? The look on his face for the rest of the afternoon.

And then, he caught one of those T-shirts they throw out to the crowd in between periods. Which made him ridiculously happy. Seriously, I should've had him buy a lottery ticket or something, today was just his day.