No puddles.

It’s Friday, and once again I do not have any BMA’s to give away. Good news I guess. No one pissed me off this week that is something positive at least.

My uncle’s funeral was today. I expected to go into that funeral home, a place that has become far too familiar for me, and start crying. But I didn’t. I don’t know if all of the funerals (by the way its 11, I somehow forgot one) have made me numb when it comes to losing someone I love, or if the happy pills have stopped it. Or it could have been the preacher that was well odd is the best way to explain him. He was very nice, and very passionate about God and religion. Yet he had no pattern to his speech. LOL like I ever do but if I was going to speak in front of a bunch of people I would at least stick to something. I was watching this man and wondering if he had tipped the whiskey bottle a few times before the service started. And it may just be how he is normally, but he sure as hell seemed scatter brained to me. Whatever it was that kept me from crying, I’m very thankful for it. In the past I would lose it after a funeral, even if I wasn’t that close the person. It was the memories of those who I had been close to that tore me up inside. Even walking around the cemetery didn’t bother me as much as it did last time. My uncle was buried near his parents, his half brother and his sister-n-law. He won’t be lonely.

The two surviving uncles gave me big hugs and I was glad to see them in high spirits. When my aunt died, my uncle was more than crushed. She had been sick for years but somehow had managed to survive. You could see he was barely able to keep himself standing and in one piece. It was obvious how much he loved her. I thought I’d never see that spark in him again. But I saw a glimpse of it today. We were all joking about how no one recognized me and he said he could always tell who I was by my laugh. He smiled and squeezed me tight when he said it; I took it as a good sign. I’m hoping he didn’t mean my laugh is annoying to him. I love that man, he is such a sweetie. My other uncle is just as sweet, but he’s the jokester of the family. It’s odd how little I know that side of my family yet I love those two men dearly. My aunt, the only surving daughter, and her husband gave me hugs as well. They are a very loving and quiet couple. I always love to hear them talk. He is part Indian, I am almost positive he's Cherokee, I could listen to him talk for hours. She has taken on that slow soft tone when she speaks so the two of them together is hypnotic. It was nice to see them all, I just hope the next time I see them, its not because of a funeral.

The week is over and I’m hoping that things will be better next week. I am afraid of the world crashing around me since it didn’t happen today. I don’t want to go there again, I have been there enough. A few times I’ve wondered if it’s because Uncle Junior used to scare me when I was small that kept me from losing it. I feel bad that I didn’t shed a tear for him. He was my uncle I should cry for his loss. But I just can’t and I hope he won’t be upset with me. I do not want that man haunting me. The best I can do is visit him from time to time. I haven’t done any visiting in a while and I need to start. Just because they are dead doesn’t mean they don’t like visitors.