Things went...well, they went. I absolutely refuse to make any more flight arrangements last-minute like this again, at least for the rest of the year. Mom can figure it out herself next time, dangit. Colorado is, as is to be expected, hot and muggy this time of year, with scads of mosquitos. There was a small, close family only viewing for my uncle (he was cremated, so they didn't have him embalmed), and then the memorial service in the church. I don't know if I've mentioned this to y'all before, but this side of the family (my dad's side) is devoutly Southern Baptist. During the memorial service, I discovered that our family has been a part of Temple Baptist for the last five generations. (Incidentally, if you go to the "Sermons" link, the first set of sermons ("Two Words") are by my cousin Kenny.) That's...a little terrifying to me, actually. The idea of being a part of a community for that long is still a little strange to me, even though I am technically a part of that community. It still surprises me how many people recognized Mom and me.
It's hard to put into words how everything is going now. I mean, an entire family is gone now - Grandpa Wood died in 1980, Grandma Wood died in February of this year, and their two sons (my dad and my uncle Paul) are now both gone. It feels a bit like my childhood's being destroyed. it's one thing to leave your childhood behind - you can wrap it in cotton and put it away in a safe place, content in the knowledge that you can take a trip down memory lane and pull it out for nostalgia's sake, and it'll still be there. Maybe a little faded and dusty with age, and perhaps not quite how you remembered it but it's still there when you look for it. Right now, it's like I put it away, and sometime when I wasn't looking, someone smashed it to bits. There's not much left, now, and what is left is broken or cracked. It's a part of growing up, I know, but it's still incredibly hard to bear - especially when so much of it has gone away just in the last few months.
I feel like I need to be alone for a bit, almost. I don't feel particularly social or wanting to talk much, so don't be offended if I don't comment or talk much to you in the next few days or weeks. I just need to figure out how to rebuild now that my foundation's been shaken loose again. I'll be all right - I'm just under construction for now.