Ex Oregonis, Ad Texasum
This is Las Vegas. McCarran International Airport, to be precise. My flight for Austin boards in about 20 minutes.
I got snowed on, as I left the Klamath Basin today. Just east of Lake of the Woods, there's a wee rest area. The parking lot was unplowed, and fine, grainy snow was falling diagonally in the gusty west wind. The trees were dusted with a fresh coat of snow from last night, shrouded in a light gray mist at 1:00pm. It was beautiful, even for someone who doesn't really like snow. I also had a chance to visit with my aunt and uncle in Medford and to have dinner with our friend, Alex. (She's one of Sarah's bride's maids, in case you haven't met her. She and Sarah lived in the same room in Sweetser Hall that I did, 15 years before.)
Leaving Chiloquin was difficult this morning. It was "the day after," and I was more worried about my mom than the weather, or even getting the car back to the Medford Airport on time. Much of Wednesday and yesterday, Mom was saying how many things she and Junior did together and how odd it would be, without her around anymore. She's not totally alone there. My cousin Pat lives not far away; so does her brother. Still, she doesn't have that constant companion she had for such a long time, even when Stacy was hitting the bottle.
Before I left, she took me by the hand and reminded me that I need to concentrate on the wedding. She's right, of course, but she was trying to tell me not to fuss or worry about her. How can I not? Despite yesterday's slight thaw in the Cold War with my sister, Kelly, she's about the only blood relation I have left.
This is the really, really sucky part about "growing up." My mom raised me to be self-sufficient, and I always thought that it was so we (all three of her kids) could take care of her, when she was into her golden years. At the same time, that self-sufficiency is what permits me to take on the awesome (and sublimely wonderful) responsibility of marrying Sarah and starting a family of our own, with children she'll get to know and to spoil absolutely rotten. These are the times my family has become too spread out.
Okay, enough whining. It's not like she's not coming to the wedding. It's not as if people won't be checking up on her. Actually, it's good I'm going back to Texas tonight. She's had to put on a brave face for me and the rest of the family. Now she can grieve the loss of her youngest and favourite daughter. So, too, I can curl up in Sarah's arms in about four hours and bawl my eyes out, mourning the loss of my dear sister. Life and times move on.
Thanks again to all of you for your warm thoughts on Stacy's death. Now, it's off to Austin, then to Dallas for tomorrow night's "Katie" awards. We'll see how we can wrap this week up. Once again, I am an Oregonian abroad, slightly diminished but never without hope and a smart-assed remark.
I got snowed on, as I left the Klamath Basin today. Just east of Lake of the Woods, there's a wee rest area. The parking lot was unplowed, and fine, grainy snow was falling diagonally in the gusty west wind. The trees were dusted with a fresh coat of snow from last night, shrouded in a light gray mist at 1:00pm. It was beautiful, even for someone who doesn't really like snow. I also had a chance to visit with my aunt and uncle in Medford and to have dinner with our friend, Alex. (She's one of Sarah's bride's maids, in case you haven't met her. She and Sarah lived in the same room in Sweetser Hall that I did, 15 years before.)
Leaving Chiloquin was difficult this morning. It was "the day after," and I was more worried about my mom than the weather, or even getting the car back to the Medford Airport on time. Much of Wednesday and yesterday, Mom was saying how many things she and Junior did together and how odd it would be, without her around anymore. She's not totally alone there. My cousin Pat lives not far away; so does her brother. Still, she doesn't have that constant companion she had for such a long time, even when Stacy was hitting the bottle.
Before I left, she took me by the hand and reminded me that I need to concentrate on the wedding. She's right, of course, but she was trying to tell me not to fuss or worry about her. How can I not? Despite yesterday's slight thaw in the Cold War with my sister, Kelly, she's about the only blood relation I have left.
This is the really, really sucky part about "growing up." My mom raised me to be self-sufficient, and I always thought that it was so we (all three of her kids) could take care of her, when she was into her golden years. At the same time, that self-sufficiency is what permits me to take on the awesome (and sublimely wonderful) responsibility of marrying Sarah and starting a family of our own, with children she'll get to know and to spoil absolutely rotten. These are the times my family has become too spread out.
Okay, enough whining. It's not like she's not coming to the wedding. It's not as if people won't be checking up on her. Actually, it's good I'm going back to Texas tonight. She's had to put on a brave face for me and the rest of the family. Now she can grieve the loss of her youngest and favourite daughter. So, too, I can curl up in Sarah's arms in about four hours and bawl my eyes out, mourning the loss of my dear sister. Life and times move on.
Thanks again to all of you for your warm thoughts on Stacy's death. Now, it's off to Austin, then to Dallas for tomorrow night's "Katie" awards. We'll see how we can wrap this week up. Once again, I am an Oregonian abroad, slightly diminished but never without hope and a smart-assed remark.