surviving the funeral
I think this is the only picture I ever took of my grandfather. I didn't really know him as well as I could have, I suppose; I don't have a lot of vivid memories of him. I remember that he played Santa for me and all my cousins when we went to his house for Christmas Eve. I remember that he was usually pretty happy and could be a funny guy. I remember that he really liked our dog, Penuche, and his cat, Tiger. In my mind, he was a little more somber after my grandmother's diabetes got serious. I remember him asking when I was going to finally cut my hair, at one holiday gathering or another. Lots of stories were told and retold these past couple days. I'd heard some of them before, others were new to me. The priest even had a story or two. Mom and I were both emotionally prepared for this, I like to think that our strength helped some of the others get through it. I'm pretty sure everyone felt a sense of closure by the time the day was done.
Now that all of that is behind me, it's time for you all to come out of the woodwork so we can hang out. Call me or something. Pretty soon, next week will be all filled up with NYC, Boston, Plymouth and other adventures and I won't have any time left.