notes from the midwest

a) My cousin E says she has a cough, and grandma asks what she uses for cough medicine "Maker's Mark" she says, and goes on to talk about her mother telling her the dresses she brought for the funeral were inappropriate. "They'd be appropriate once you lost some weight E, but you'll have to get something new". E just lost an uncle and a grandmother. My mom asks her "how do you do it?" referring to putting up with her mother.

"straight up, no ice."

b) E's grandfather (the one not related to me) has a collection of the family's urns in his closet. His sister is right next to a monkey that claps it's hands (it's holding cymbals) when you put a quarter in it.

c) my uncle, an avid fisher, gets the last laugh from the grave. He once had a stroke while at a fishing tournament, and decided to finish the tournament before going to the doctor.

When he got his terminal diagnosis, he went fishing despite doctors orders to not use his shoulder (the tumor ate away at the bone, and it could break at any minute). He ended up passing on less than a week later. He is being cremated, and his ashes will be put in a tackle box. Not a brand new tackle box, but the one he has used for years. RIP Larry.

Further notes that aren't funny and may only be interesting to me below

Death is odd. My friend Jim died 2 weeks ago Friday. I hadn't seen a whole lot of him since high school, although he'd be at my friend's house semi regularly. Unfortunately I didn't know Jim as well as I should have. I was still pretty rocked by his death, because he was the kind of guy that would reach out to everyone and be their friend. I don't have sufficient words to memorialize him here, I don't want that to be the focus right now. My point is, it's a true testament to Jim that, although I wasn't one of his closest friends, I was still pretty effected by his passing.

Larry is the same way. I've only seen him a dozen times in my life. I'll still miss his humor at every family gathering from here out. The guy was absolutely hillarious. Obvious point, the above tackle box story.

And yet, I don't feel I can properly attend these funerals. Most of Jim's friends had known him since elementary school. They tell stories and I don't really have much to offer. Larry's funeral is going to be hard as well. 4 of my mother's siblings (as well as her parents) lived in Springfield for a majority of their lives. The brother who hadn't lived in Springfield could still fly up regularly. So my dozen+ cousins have known each other pretty well their whole lives, I have been apart from the flock. I think I've only been to springfield 10-15 times in my life.

So as everyone tells their stories, I sit back and have an awkward laugh, and tell stupid jokes when I can. I think I just look stupid sitting there. What do I know, what do I contribute, why could I possibly be there? And so I feel bad, but as I feel bad I start thinking I'm making myself out to be a martyr, and I'm feeling bad for selfish reasons-as always. And so I launch into melodramatic inner monologue about the tragic loss of life etc etc. I start to briefly hate myself. And my neuroticism is complete. Chris asked how I was handling everything. Neurotic. Manic Depressive. Narcissistic. So about normal.

About 12 hours before I got on the flight to Illinois, I was in a car accident. Some dude trying to pass me while he was in the center (turn) lane. And they cited me, despite the fact that you can only be in the lane to make a left turn. I had a chance to get over 3/4 of the way in before he struck my driver side front wheel. I was merging pretty slowly, and I was going under 15mph in a 25 (so I had obviously begun merging early because I was probably driving atleast 35 if not 40 before I was merging). The guy didn't honk or break hard. I think he was coming out of the hotel and thought I was just driving slow and decided to pass me. But I shoulder the burden of guilt in this one apparently. I'm questioning whether I just remember it wrong, but I'm pretty sure I have it right.

3 more days until the funeral. I haven't been to work since the 23rd of May and I'm going a bit insane. I don't get back in town til the 7th of June. I'm looking to keep myself occupied with any labor I can around my Grandma's house. I guess my ingrained American Puritanical work ethic has cause my guilt to rise again. I wish I could enjoy my time off, because I don't get alot of it

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