I was a junior in high school when my grandfather died; the day of his funeral was bitterly cold, with a hard wind from the north. Of course, since it was in the 1970s and I was an idiot, I wore a very short dress that day, and it took me quite a few days to thaw out. It served me right.
The weather here reminded me of that day. But at least this time, I was more suitably attired.
Blue Hill, Nebraska