setting down

I burned my tender guitar-string-battered finger yesterday morning and held a bag of ice all day until I set it down for the memorial service for a man who was stubborn and brilliant and more complicated than I realized, and who was a mentor to my husband for 15 years. He was forced to level down from living as an ambitious 90 mph musical phenom to desiccating in a motorized wheelchair when MS (there is too much MS) sunk its teeth into him. It finally killed him. There was a lot of laughter during the service, even so. S and his brother sat with me on our couch afterward and we ate chocolate cake and toasted to the memories. He taught them both so much about music and caring and what it means to be accountable. I don't think either of them really know yet what it means to not have him in their lives. I'm glad I got to meet him, and I'm glad I met with his approval. He would call S and tell him to hang on to me.