Today was not like most of the days I have lived in the short time of my existence. Instead, today was a day that I will carry with me to the end of my days here, a day that I will cherish (not necessarily in a happy way), remember, and hold dear to me. Today is a day that was filled to the rim with a serum of remembrance - a sharing of memories, a celebration of a person that changed all of our lives, my grandmother, Pally.

Luckily, it is not often that one has the opportunity to be a pallbearer to his grandmother's casket, thank god it can happen but only twice in a life time, and twice it is too many. However, each of these times, it is an honor, and I am proud to have been selected as one of the members of her family to carry her to her final resting place. It is not often that a man cries. For me, I have not cried in quite some time. Today, at the funeral, I shed tears several times. Once, when I was quoted, "Grandma, you are truly brave." It struck me deep in my heart as I remembered the conversation, and then placed it into context, thinking that there is no potential to relive that moment again except for in the very place I found it - in my memories. I cried once again as dirt was being placed upon her casket.
I love my grandmother. I would say I loved her, being that she is gone now, (to a better place), but the past tense is insufficient. I still love her. I always will. There was a moment in the funeral where we talked about the influence she had on the people around her - how she let people know how much she loved them. She taught all of her children a poem - and their children taught their children, etc. etc. In short, most everyone in the entire room was able to recite the poem, and we were all touched deeply. In addition to this, we were able to share memoirs . . . in a strange sort of way, I felt like talking about how Grandma always cared for people - she always made sure her caregivers felt as though they were at home, and she always made sure that the person who changed her oxygen got a soda before he left. She always reminded us of our jackets, and she always told us to drive home safely. She told me, "I love you sweetheart", and "I'm so proud of you". It's moments like those that I look back on and smile, or at least will smile on in awhile. As for now, I still feel as though I'm in mourning - like I've lost a part of myself that I loved deeply. I don't feel I was truly ready to talk about my grandmother before this point, and I don't know if I can truly express my feelings in what I'm writing now.

I loved most everything about her - the way she was stubborn was even amusing sometimes, at least now that I look back on it. She always wanted to make sure I was well fed - she wanted me to eat Macaroni and Cheese from her refrigerator, that I honestly really didn't care for much, but ate anyway. I remember the nights when we would go out for Mexican food, but even more so the nights (on special occasions) when we would go out to a restaurant called "Bull's Head". Boy oh boy do they serve (or at least they did serve) great burgers. I remember walking down the street, and vaguely now I still remember her red lipstick, and even faintly the smell of her perfume. Certain things were just "grandma", and there is really no other way to describe them. The way she always made up her hair . . . I never really understood the hairstyle itself, but it was definitely hers, that's for sure.

After the burial service, which we were driven to by a professional driver, I was brought to Aunt Debbie, Uncle Tom, and the Cousins' Alan and Laura's house. I love that portion of the family so much. They're all so kind, so loving, and so caring of me whenever I am there. It was wonderful to see my cousins - to see Alan in person, to get a chance to talk to Laura. Tom's speech at the funeral was both funny and touching, and I will remember what he said there for many days to come. But most of all, I will remember the two moments that touched me the most that night, both with Aunt Debbie . . . we were sitting there, and she asked me if I was O.K.; we're both always on the go, and I've never really had a chance to talk to Aunt Debbie much . . . but it was wonderful to be able to express at least some of my emotions to her, and having her there with me just made me feel comfortable, and happy. Another moment that night, she told me something that made me so happy . . . so very happy, and thank you so much for telling me Aunt Debbie. It means a lot to me.

I believe what I have to say for right now is sufficient. Perhaps I will add more to this later . . . although right now I'm pretty tired. It's late, 10:30 or so, and I want to get some rest before school tomorrow. My Dad and Chris stopped for a beer, my mom is fried, and I'm just writing away. Hopefully I won't have too much homework tomorrow, I'm not in the mood.

Let There Be Shalom.

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