Wednesday, 07-July-2021 through Wednesday, 14-July-2021
After the funeral, I couldn’t bring myself to fly back to Oregon immediately. It didn’t seem right… I had the opportunity to work remotely, and my family was grieving… why wouldn’t I stay for some time?
I went to visit my Aunt first, but after spending a few days with her I headed back to my childhood home, to spend time with my Mom, Stepdad, and Sister.
It’s been so long since we’ve all lived under the same roof… it felt good, if a little strange. We’re all the same people, even if a few years have gone by… but we definitely interact a bit differently. A bit more calmly, I like to think.
Anyways, we had a good time. We worked, we ate, we chatted, and we enjoyed spending time together.
Friday, 02-July-2021 through Wednesday, 07-July-2021
It still hasn’t really hit me.
I’m writing this up in early August, and it still hasn’t truly hit me that my Grandma is gone.
She wasn’t young, by any means, and she absolutely lived as full as life as any of us could ask for. She experienced, loved, traveled, lived, and passed those experiences on. She grew, and grew a family around her… and thanks to that, she doesn’t seem like she’s really gone… even though I know that she is.
I got the call on a Friday morning. A little bit before work, as I was getting ready for my low-key work Friday.
Within an hour I had plane tickets booked, and was working with the IT department in my office to get a loaner laptop assigned to me. My leadership tree was exceptionally helpful, and before early afternoon I had a laptop, travel authorization, I’d rescheduled my climbing trip, cancelled all the bookings that could be cancelled, and was getting myself ready to fly out East for the time since the Pandemic started.
The sky put on a show for me as the plane flew East and I stared quietly out the window.
It was the Fourth of July, and I could see scattered fireworks below us… steadily getting thicker as we got closer and closer into Boston.
I… don’t really know what to write, here. I didn’t take any pictures from the funeral, of course, and the entire day seemed to flow around us all like syrup.
People arrived. The Rabbi spoke. My family spoke. They weren’t the same words that were spoken after my Grandfather passed away… but they were similar.
The dirt landed with a thud against the coffin. We were reminded, again, that placing dirt into a grave is the greatest mitzvah that can be performed since the people it’s being performed for can never repay the debt in this life. The sentiment helped, but didn’t take away the dulled senses and feelings of emptiness.
We finished the service, we went home. Everyone stayed together, consoled each other, and stories were both told and heard.
It was… It was. Those words are enough. It simply was.