I wanted to be like you, I wanted everything

[zeppelinchck]

Mary's memorial service was today. I walked in, seeing the hundreds of people in line to hear the service and to see the pictures her family had up of her from years past. When I sat down, I did it thinking that I'd be fine, that I wouldn't cry. That I could sit there, looking at the pictures going by on two gigantic screens, listening to hundreds of stories about her life, and not cry. I actually believed that maybe, this wasn't affecting me very much. Needless to say, I was wrong. One of the pastor's got up to the podium and started talking about her. Started saying how she was a mother to all of us. How quiet she was, but how there was strength in her silence. I lost it. For the rest of the 2 hour service, I sat there bawling, not caring about the mascara running down my cheeks, the tissues overflowing my pockets or the hair that'd become a mess since I had arrived. I survived the service, not being able to see who was talking; they had become blurs in my eyes. Afterwords, I went over to Kim, Mary's daughter who was always with all of us every time we saw each other, and talked to her. We both wiped tears from our eyes, she introduced me to her husband, and I moved on seeing as there were a few people behind me waiting to talk to her. My mom and I went over to the pictures of Mary from the time she was little until this year. It was a beautiful service but all I kept thinking about was how I was never going to sit down with her at TGI Fridays again, or hear about her cruise that she had planned for next month, or talk to her about anything ever again. I started thinking about my grandpa and my grandma...how it felt when they died and how much of a mess I'd become after. I don't feel like becoming that again but all I really want to do is just sit somewhere and cry while somebody who isn't leaving my life anytime soon, sits with me without saying anything. It's what I've always done. But it's always been one person. When my grandma died, that person was Larry, as a friend. Same when my boss/neighbor died. When my grandpa died, Larry was there for me as much more than that. Now, with Mary gone...I'm not sure who I'm supposed to turn to. Today, at the service was the first time I'd actually allowed myself to react to what had happened. The rest of the time, I've spent acting like everything was perfectly normal. Like I'm A O.K. Which I am. But when I'm sitting in my room at night, I think about it. And I wish there were someone here that I could talk to and cry with and feel better with. And right now I wish that that person were Larry. I know that it shouldn't be, I know that it's stupid of me to even think about it. But like I told Ashley, I wish I could go over there right now. Just so I could feel better, so that I could...I don't know. Not feel numb to it right now.
I should be all yay. I should be completely focused on going back to school tomorrow. And I am happy about it. I can't wait to go back. But this has put a damper on it. I can't promise a happy, yippy skippy, normal Amy tomorrow at noon. I can try for one, but I can make no promises. Sorry for that. But 5 hours in a car might just give me the right amount of time that will force me to think about it and effectively get me to the point where I can't think about anything else.
Gah. Cheer up Amy. Troy, tomorrow night, at home, in the bun room, with the people I enjoy being around and the people I care about. I'll be fine.
~Amy