Funerals are strange events for me. Reluctantly, they become giant family reunions...
That's my Jonathan there in the tie. Yes, that is a smile. He was so glad to see all of his cousins again especially his buddy, Daniel my baby brother's youngest son.
...and/or massive networking extravaganzas which is such a bummer because it all takes place at the same time my mind is trying to figure out mine and my loved one's mortality, ugh.
Driving from the funeral to the burial was a sobering experience despite the prodding of billboards whizzing by...
During the drive to the burial, I couldn't stop reflecting on the many drives my Dad took me and my younger sister, Antoinette, to visit Cynthia and Larry.
I remember these roads so well. As soon as I got my driver's license, me and my sister Antoinette would take the 2 hour drive to see our new niece and nephew, Tamaiya and Bonn, in a heartbeat. We loved those kids so much, we wouldn't think twice about driving way down South Jersey to see them. Now they have their own children, and it was strange to realize time passing through the faces of the next generation -
All in all, I am often left a bit weaker after any funeral. It is just too difficult to comprehend. There are never any words or expression of sympathy that ever seems appropriate. Oh, there is one expression, "We all want to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die."
So, for now, whenever I feel kind of blue, I'm going to look at pictures of my children, nieces and nephews, who seem to love each other's company, and find a way to smile.