January 24, 2006 - 6:57 p.m.
<and the day after
>
Yesterday was the service at the cemetary. We didn't get to see the entoumbment, though, which I'm kind of sad about. I wish we could be there to pay our last respects as he was lowered into the earth. It was a short service, only about 10 minutes. There were a few chairs, but most people stood. I sat down with Grandpa.
Before the service, Ben gave Josh (Charlie's Grandson) a little red wind-up car that Charlie had given him a few years ago. Sunday night, Dad was telling us about the things that Josh had been looking for at Charlie's house, and he told us that he couldn't find a little red wind-up car, and he was upset that he couldn't because he always used to play with it when he went over there as a child. Ben said that Charlie had given it to him - so Ben gave it to Josh in the car the next morning before the service. Josh wasn't expecting it, and he just started sobbing as soon as he opened the box and saw what it was.
After the service, Dad wanted to get out of there quite quickly. I don't know if it was because he wanted to help Josh get the airport and maybe get an earlier flight, or because he was so upset and tired from everything that he wanted to get home. One of my favorite things is seeing my dad in his suit. But it was horribly sad to see Dad all dressed up in his suit, his trench coat blowing a little in the cold January wind, holding Charlie's casket.
Mom, Ben, and I went to Skyline to eat, where Dad met us after dropping Josh off.
It was a long, drawn-out weekend. Going through Charlie and Blanche's house on Saturday, the funeral and dinner all Sunday, Sunday night sitting in the family room looking at old pictures of Charlie, and Sunday with the service at the cemetary. Althought it was long, and hard, I'm glad for it. It helped me let go, and accept it. I'm still struggling with Blanche's death. This weekend helped a bit with her, too, I think. Not that I'm not struggling with Charlie's death - it's still hard and of course I still cry and think about him all day. It's only been less than a week. But I've more realized it with him, because of everything that happened.
On Sunday, Dad was already at the funeral home when the rest of us came. He told me that I looked very nice, and then he said that Grandpa always says that if "one of those guys in Louisville doesn't get her before she comes home, they're all crazy," and of course that made me feel good.
Did I say, that Charlie told my parents to tell me goodbye?
Joanna didn't come to anything.
Last night after dinner at Margaret's, I went to Ramsey's and we went bowling with Jason, Gil, Sean, and Matthew (yes! we actually got Matthew out of the house!). Afterwards we went to the Bristol for something to eat. I was in a horrible mood, and didn't realize it until I started interacting with these people who weren't mourning as I was. I didn't say a word to Ramsey on the drive to the bowling alley, and barely anything to anyone while we were there. At the Bristol, Sean said something about how I didn't go to a movie on Friday with everyone, and I snapped at him about how I had to go to a funeral. I was upset - but I don't actually know if he knew I went home for that. I was so rude. Then Ramsey, Jason, and Sean started talking about something about linguistics, and of course they all get stupid and show-offy, and then feel off of each other's ridiculousness, and I just stared out the window. I noticed that Gil was glazed over, too, and I said something quite loud mocking the rest of them. The thing is, I didn't feel bad about any of this until we got home and I got quiet and realized it. I was just so worn down by the past few days, that anything grated on me and I let it be known. I feel so bad.
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