The funeral wasn't bad, aside from the fact that I knew about 25% of the people there it was good. I got to catch up with that 25% and it was nice to see everyone again. It's sad that it takes something like this to bring people together, but I guess that's just life. People are busy, and getting together is hard.
I talked to family and friends. I'd like to thank my three friends who showed up last night too. Josh Coury, Ty, and Schweins. Thank you guys. I don't know if you'll read this, but thank you. It meant alot to have a friend to turn too.
After two hours of visitation my gram's cousin who is a priest said a few prayers and opened it up for people to come up and say something about Sally. Five or ten people spoke, I was not one of them. I thought about it but I couldn't process words to say. I had so many memories with her, and I couldn't think of anything? Sad right? I wish I had. But after everyone had said their bit I went over, and looked at a picture of my grandma that I had seen at least a hundred times before, but this times I broke down. I cried and cried. The thought of never looking at her vibrant red hair again ate at me. My dad saw me crying and he brought me in and gave me a big hug, telling me it was okay. In that moment I felt closer to my dad than I have in a long time, maybe ever.
Some lyrics from J. Cole's song Lost Ones came to mind last night as I was cying. It's my opinion of crying, but J. Cole beat me to putting it in a song.
"I ain't too proud to tell ya that I cry sometimes, I cry sometimes about it."
NP: Lost Ones- J.Cole
My condolences, Tom. I left Alaska with a tradition that will forever resonate. In many native cultures, the passing of a loved one includes a long and laborious ceremony. Starting early morning, the family heads to the cemetery equipped with shovels and begins digging the 6' grave by hand. After hours of digging, family and friends lower the gasket with ropes - by hand. Prayers are said along with goodbyes. Then, the process is reversed and one shovelful at a time the gasket is buried, by hand. While I've never experienced a ceremony because of my short-lived stay, friends have told me that the first sounds of earth on the gasket will weaken even the strongest-willed man. However, upon completion of the task no-one is left with an inkling of disclosure. Physically exhausted, family and friends walk away satisfied to leave their loved one at rest. It's quite beautiful when you think about it.
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