Kamloops
I'm in the hotel in Kamloops on a spotty internet connection that I'm pillaging from the bar and grill downstairs, so we'll see if I actually manage to send this properly.
The service was very, very hard. I stayed clear of pretty much everyone before hand because every time I saw Caelin's mom or sister or his girlfriend, I started to break down, and I was sharing the eulogy with my mother. Somehow, I managed to hold it together to speak, which I'm really glad I was able to do. That meant a lot to me, being able to talk about him and remember him.
For those who I haven't been able to tell, my cousin died from bronchial pneumonia. I don't know for certain, but I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't even know he had it. He had asthma, he smoked, and it was winter, plus the injections he was taking for pain control made him very congested. He went to sleep, and he never woke up.
I've been keeping myself in a state of intentional denial in the days leading up to the service today, knowing that I couldn't let myself break down because I had to speak. The service is over now, and I'm not sure where that leaves me. The goal I've been working toward is passed, and now all there is to do is keep going in a world he's not a part of any more. Right now, that seems really, really hard.
Thank you to everyone who's sent messages of support, talked to me, kept me and my family in your thoughts and prayers. It means so, so much. More than I can ever say.
The service was very, very hard. I stayed clear of pretty much everyone before hand because every time I saw Caelin's mom or sister or his girlfriend, I started to break down, and I was sharing the eulogy with my mother. Somehow, I managed to hold it together to speak, which I'm really glad I was able to do. That meant a lot to me, being able to talk about him and remember him.
For those who I haven't been able to tell, my cousin died from bronchial pneumonia. I don't know for certain, but I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't even know he had it. He had asthma, he smoked, and it was winter, plus the injections he was taking for pain control made him very congested. He went to sleep, and he never woke up.
I've been keeping myself in a state of intentional denial in the days leading up to the service today, knowing that I couldn't let myself break down because I had to speak. The service is over now, and I'm not sure where that leaves me. The goal I've been working toward is passed, and now all there is to do is keep going in a world he's not a part of any more. Right now, that seems really, really hard.
Thank you to everyone who's sent messages of support, talked to me, kept me and my family in your thoughts and prayers. It means so, so much. More than I can ever say.