Tears, rain, metaphor: you figure it out

It's raining today, possibly the third time this month, which means the third time since last February. I should be delighted, but it reminds me of tears. My mother-in-law's funeral is either today or tomorrow, and we weren't able to go to Cornwall for it. My wonderful nephew Rhys sent us a copy of his eulogy, which gave a lovely picture of a lovely woman, who was good at telling stories, who liked to travel, who liked to get up early and walk down to the shops and have strong coffee with friends, who sounds a lot like Chaz.

I only got to meet Vera one time, the Christmas before we wed. She was very sweet, and fixed us lunch at her house in Cornwall. I don't know what she made of me, this American woman who was taking her son away, but I liked her very much. I wish I'd been able to see her again as another Mrs. Brenchley. Farewell, Vera. Thank you for your son, and Tina, and Rhiannon and Isabella, and Rhys.