Almost Time to Go

Our clothes are ready to go, I'm almost done getting everything else ready to go out to the car. I was printing your obituary & ran out of ink (of course) and since the choice is buying food for the trip to Utah or buying ink, I asked our tribe to help out & it's being handled.

We have to leave early to go get BT since he has no car to drive now, and he's leading your funeral rites & really, even if he wasn't, he'd want to be there. You left a bunch of devastated siblings when you died, young people who shouldn't have to be dealing with this loss, but are nonetheless. In most cases, they are doing it quietly & in their own way, but grieving & broken, they are.

I'm amazed by the number of people who are just beginning to find out about your death. It was the most life-changing event (other than becoming a mother) in my life, it feels like there's no way the world doesn't already know (do you know who I am?!?) I guess it's filtering through your sister's FB now, to people you didn't have in common & they all seem equally surprised that you're gone. She's okay, on the outside, but like all of us, obliterated on the inside. She calls me often, we both feel your loss profoundly. She's coming home with us Sunday, to spend time with us, to see if she wants to move here eventually, to get to know this place you were both born in & to scatter your ashes where you began. We're trying to leave as little of you there as we can, we know you didn't want to be there & I sure as hell don't want your remains being left there. I couldn't convince you to leave, but I'll be damned if I leave more of your ashes there than I have to.