Fait accompli
This is Chiloquin, Oregon...and the unpleasant deed is done.
Thanks to Dre and Teresa for the words of encouragement. The words were well-received and mainly ad-libbed. Whether they were sufficient, I can only hope. There were a ton of people there I hadn't seen since before Junior graduated high school. My main goal was to make sure (as Stacy would have wanted) that no one was mopey or sad, most notably my mother. I broke out every bit of material I had. Your normally shy correspondent was working every table, catching up with people, talking to my ex-boss and one of my former colleagues from KFLS/KKRB in Klamath Falls. (Oh and that was a shock!)
There was a bit of a "burying the hatchet" session with my estranged older sister, Kelly. ("We're about all we have left, kiddo," I told her.) There was a great reunion with my nephew, Max. He's 14 years old...and six feet one inch tall! There was also a bit of an olive branch extended to Max's dad, my sister's ex. In my feeble remarks, I wanted to note that, of all the beautiful flowers Junior brought into the world, Max was the master work, the coup de grace, and rightly some of that credit also goes to his father. In front of literally God and everyone, I asked him to think of his mother when he passes flowers in bloom or a well-tended garden.
I'm back on the plane tomorrow night, red-eyeing it back to Austin from Medford via Vegas. (Welcome to another edition of "Loading Gate Roulette!") Sarah meets my plane at 3:24am, then we sleep so we can go to Dallas for the Katie Awards. (I still doubt I'll win, but just going after all that's happened this week will be refreshing.) Once again, I'll be an Oregonian abroad. My next trip home will be much happier, with one sidetrip to Wilson Cemetery to give my sister a place in our family plot, next to my grandmother and other relatives. At least the weather will be better. It's snowing here...
Thanks to Dre and Teresa for the words of encouragement. The words were well-received and mainly ad-libbed. Whether they were sufficient, I can only hope. There were a ton of people there I hadn't seen since before Junior graduated high school. My main goal was to make sure (as Stacy would have wanted) that no one was mopey or sad, most notably my mother. I broke out every bit of material I had. Your normally shy correspondent was working every table, catching up with people, talking to my ex-boss and one of my former colleagues from KFLS/KKRB in Klamath Falls. (Oh and that was a shock!)
There was a bit of a "burying the hatchet" session with my estranged older sister, Kelly. ("We're about all we have left, kiddo," I told her.) There was a great reunion with my nephew, Max. He's 14 years old...and six feet one inch tall! There was also a bit of an olive branch extended to Max's dad, my sister's ex. In my feeble remarks, I wanted to note that, of all the beautiful flowers Junior brought into the world, Max was the master work, the coup de grace, and rightly some of that credit also goes to his father. In front of literally God and everyone, I asked him to think of his mother when he passes flowers in bloom or a well-tended garden.
I'm back on the plane tomorrow night, red-eyeing it back to Austin from Medford via Vegas. (Welcome to another edition of "Loading Gate Roulette!") Sarah meets my plane at 3:24am, then we sleep so we can go to Dallas for the Katie Awards. (I still doubt I'll win, but just going after all that's happened this week will be refreshing.) Once again, I'll be an Oregonian abroad. My next trip home will be much happier, with one sidetrip to Wilson Cemetery to give my sister a place in our family plot, next to my grandmother and other relatives. At least the weather will be better. It's snowing here...