Is a cute town, a little historical, a little western.
Tuesday we went to Cheyenne. The reason we went was for a funeral. My sister in law’s father’s funeral. I think I only met him once, but funeral’s aren’t for the departed, they are for the rest of us.
I always underestimate how hard funerals will be for me. I have been to more than my share if you judge by my hubby, this was his first. Anyhow, for me it is always all too real, too close, too much. There but for the grace of who knows what go I. Oddly enough I don’t mean my own death, although I clearly do not want to die, I am not so afraid of that that I spend any time thinking on it at all. I am terrified of losing those that I love though. My circle is tiny, and in such it is entirely beloved, losing any one person would be horrific beyond thought. Thus I hate seeing the left behind. I hate being near people who are having their hearts broken. I also know how much you need people near you when such events occur. So I swallow it, smile and go. I always will. I just don’t think there is any other option. Anyhow, I am glad I went, I wish I had it in me to stay longer, or even to say the right thing, even though we all know there is never anything that can be the one right thing. I only hope they know that I am truly thinking of them.
There is no other news, really. None. A few more rows of knitting, a little more school starts damn soon prep and that is about it.