I wish I had all day to write about everything that I want to write about. Instead, I have 15 minutes before I have to be at work for the rest of the weekend. I’ll just get where I can get with the time that I have.
This Thanksgiving holiday, Justin and I drove to Sparta, Wisconsin for the funeral of his Grandfather. I had never been to a funeral before, and neither had Justin. It was incredibly moving, what everyone kept calling “a beautiful service.” I cried and cried, but didn’t have any tissues. I felt foolish, but it is one of those things you don’t expect. To me, he was Poppa. Just Justin’s grandfather, and a wonderful person. But after you hear the speakers speak, and watch your family members suffer, you realize he wasn’t just a Grandfather. He was Gram’s husband, so it would be like losing my Justin. He was Laura, Lisa, and Steve’s father, so it would be like losing my own dad. He was Shirley’s brother, and it breaks my heart to think about losing Adam or Ryan. During the rememberance, the pastor told of all the things that Poppa had done during his life, and it made me realize exactly how much the world was losing with his death. Five years ago, he was given six months to live. He fought, and was strong, and was given four extra years of life. We spread his ashes out at his “shack.” It was his home away from home, his haven. All I can say is that I’m thankful I was given the chance to know him, and to love him. He was a wonderful man.
The next day, we had Thanksgiving dinner at Justin’s other grandparents house. I wont even get into that.
We drove home late lastnight so we could get into our own bed and sleep. It was very much preferable to waiting to leave until this morning, and not getting home until JUST before I had to be at work for the whole evening. This turned out much nicer.
I know I had so much more to say, but it has all gotten lost for some reason. Maybe I’ll write some more when I get home at midnight. Maybe not.