We Are Family

I'm writing a little later than usual today. The funeral was exhuasting. My BFF from high school has a HUGE family and somehow, over the course of 37 years, they've become my family in a manner of speaking.

Through weddings, holidays, funerals, birthdays and showers, we've forged and cemented a friendship that will withstand and endure any test of time. She's my dawg.

It broke my heart to watch her cry at her mother's funeral. I can honestly say that I know what she's going through. I can apply one of my mom's favorite sayings, 'I've been where you think you're going' and mean it.

Pitching in and helping out felt so normal. Part of it was because she's my friend. I realized that another part of it was it's just what I do. I can look back know over a period of 31 years with my sorority, 'service to all mankind' is how I live my life. Putting together the funeral programs until midnight, I even had my 15 year old nephew pitching in to help. Every able body person participated in the process.

Whereas Vickey is my oldest and dearest school friend, she can't say the same for me. She's maintained friendships with people as far back as kindergarten. She's that type of person. I was perplexed not to see some of those people. I think it says alot about the type of person they are.

For the Fourth of July, I spent a very somber celebration with my mother's family. My 88 year old aunt was as vibrant as ever. I found it amazing that her family was not as attentive as they could be. Maybe they think she'll be around for ever and it's o.k. to take her for granted? I treasure her. She's the last person left on earth that knew my mother as a little girl. Once she goes, that's it. All that will be left of my mother's childhood memories are secondary sources of information.

One of my last surviving uncles was also there. He and my aunt are the same age but are a lifetime apart. He used to be so robust. I watched him at the 'festivities' and he is now just a shell of his former self. I don't know if he even knew where he was most of the time. He was once a football player and he's as weak and fragile as fine crystal. I worried that he might misstep and fall.

I didn't want my mom to miss out on the celebrations this weekend so, I took flowers out to the cemetery and sat with her for awhile. I can tell I'm moving through this process. I spent time looking at the various markers trying to figure out what I wanted for her. That's a good sign of recovery for me. I'm starting to look outside my hurt and think about planning for the future.

I've complained that there would be no family reunion this summer but, looking back over the weekend, I think this was it. I just didn't know it at the time. I'm going to work on paying attention to the details more and stop looking for the bigger picture so much. I'm missing out on a lot of life.