Life goes on.

As you know, I buried my daddy last Saturday. The service was very nice, and we had a beautiful day for it. The sun was shining and the sky was blue. Beautiful flying weather.

My cousins and their kids showed up, from both sides of the family, along with other family and old friends. Even one of my dad's old golfing buddies showed up. Shocked the hell out of me. I thought all the local guys were dead.

My best friend from the old canoeing days, Jim Aycock, drove down from Ft. Worth even though he was sick and I told him not to. He's a real buddy, and I love him to death. The flowers he and his wife terry sent were the prettiest flowers I'd ever seen. Not only did he come but he brought me two 12 packs of Yuengling in his trunk (one Traditional Lager and one Black and Tan). Now THAT's a buddy.

I surprised myself by being able to hold it together through the service. I'd always figured I'd be a basket case when Dad went, but I needed to stay strong for mom and it was surprisingly easy to do. I guess I've grown up a bit more than I knew.

I held it together till the service was over and the folks were filing by to give their sympathies to my family. My dad's 95 year old cousin, Wilson Moon, hobbled up to me on his cane and said "Well, our buddy went and left us didn't he?" I got up and hugged the old gentleman so tightly I think I may have shook something loose and we cried for a minute. After that I just stayed up on my feet and hugged everyone who walked by. It felt good.

My cousin Peggy, my barber who'd cut my fathers hair a week earlier came by and said something very sweet to me, after which I picked her up, hugged her and shook her. Her husband, a tough ex-rodeo cowboy, tried to shake my hand but I told him there wouldn't be any hand shakes that day. He got similar treatment. He seemed tiny in my arms. They all did.

I held it together till the ceremony was over and my jacket was off (it was about 85 or 90 that day). While mom waited in the car and everyone was getting ready to go I walked over to the coffin and said my last goodbye. It was quick. I said something like "Bye bye daddy", and told him not to worry. I'd take care of everything. I reached out and gave the coffin a sweeping touch and then, quietly crying, turned to walk back to the car. I shook the hand of the funeral home rep, thanking him for doing a great job. Then I drove momma home.



After the funeral we all went back to the house where we were ready to serve lunch to those folks who came by to see mom. No one came. The folks who were part of dad's family all begged off. My mom's side of the family was well represented. We ate lunch, drank some of Denise's Southern Comfort Punch and remembered dad.



My cousin Bob had flown in Friday afternoon and was a huge comfort to mom and I. This is the guy I go fishing with in Canada every year. We've grown very close in the last 15 years, and consider ourselves to be brothers now. He stayed with mom Friday night so she wouldn't be alone and then stayed with me Saturday night.

We got up early on Sunday and I cooked breakfast burritos for he and Denise before we drove him back down to Austin to catch his flight back to Pennsylvania. I had Denise take this picture after he decided to head through security and go to his gate. I always break up when we part. I love him so much, it's hard to see him go.



He and Denise hit it off really well, bouncing hilarious barbs off one another now and then. Bob's a Yankee, with a Yankee's sense of humor, which took me a few years to get used too. I wanted to bust his ass for a long time before I figured out he was joking and I learned to give him some of the same shit back. Denise is tough as nails, with a British sense of humor, and doesn't take shit off of anyone. I think he really loved her strength, as I do. He told me on several occasions that I'd found myself a good one and better not screw it up. I share those sentiments.

After leaving the airport we drove around Austin for a while, visiting a few cool stores and killing time. After a while we went to Pappasito's for lunch. Denise had a Strawberry Margarita and I killed two Shiners in chilled mugs as we enjoyed the spicy beef queso dip, beef and chicken fajitas and my favorite brochette shrimp. I can't go to eat there without getting those. It was wonderful. There was a dude dressed as the Easter Bunny there and they had an Easter Egg hunt for the kids in the garden of the restaurant. It was a wonderful time.

After that, with the sky becoming cloudy and the temperatures dropping into the 50s, we drove back up to Temple and went to see mom. I asked her if she wanted to go to the cometary and after briefly hesitating she decided we should go.



As I drove us into the park and swung around to the point where dad's plot was in view, mom looked over at it and said something like "Well, he's really there isn't he?", and started to sob.

Mom hadn't cried yet and had felt the need on a few occasions to try to explain why she hadn't cried to those of us who were. I think the sight of that mound and the beautiful flowers was the moment that the reality of dad's death finally hit her. We cried together, arm in arm, with Denise softly touching my shoulder from the back seat.



We all got out and walked over to stand in front of the plot. Mom and I stood there, with me supporting her as her legs buckled. I stood behind her and held her up, surrounding her in a bear hug, as we both sobbed for a good while. It was a very sweet, cathartic moment for the both of us. She called my dad a "Stinker" for going first. Later she took Denise on a tour, showing her where her sisters, their husbands and my Grandparents are.



After that we drove her home. I sobbed some more, leaning on the stairs and letting go for a while. We spent another hour sitting in mom's living room and talking about a lot of things. Her cats begged for her attention the whole time, maybe sensing something was wrong. I got the above picture as one searched the yard for movement.

While we talked, remembering things about the past, mom revealed some things to me about my dad that I'm still trying to get strait in my head. I might tell you about that stuff some time. It was cool to hear my mom unload, and brings me the hope that as time goes by she might tell me more of the stories she's apparently always been reluctant to tell me while Dad lived.

Anyway, everything is very slowly getting back to normal. Mom's doing fine, and we're slowly dealing with all the stuff that comes up after someone dies... All the government agencies who have to be told, and the insurance, and the banks. It's a daunting process, but we'll get through it.

I talk to mom every day now, sometimes twice a day, and she's getting phone calls from lots of well wishers all the time. I can never thank those folks enough, or the folks who've expressed their condolences to me on the comments page of this and other blogs. You guys are wonderful, and I'll never forget it. Consider yourselves hugged, picked up and shook. Mushy can tell ya what that's like.

This next Friday is gonna hurt. I'm not sure what I'll do with myself. I mean, I know there's a lot of things i can do, but it's still gonna hurt when I think of all those Fridays, and the football games in the fall, and the driving range. I talked to mom about how we should start a new tradition, with me taking her out to eat. She loves that Chinese food just as much as dad did, but we can go wherever she wants to go. We'll see. We'll get through it, no matter what happens.

I tell ya, having Denise here loving me, taking such great care of mom, and having you guys out there will make it all a lot easier to deal with. I love you guys.

Cheers.