MMemorial Day

A thousand years ago our little gang of friends played in a volleyball tournament in Chelan over Memorial Day. The t-shirts we got had Memorial Day spelled wrong - Mmemorial Day - with an extra "m". For the longest time, when memorial day came up I'd think of this and say it as "mem-morial day".

Since that time, Memorial day has become our weekend to say goodbyes to loved ones. I swore when Dad died I'd not go back to Odessa for another Memorial day. Then Ric died. I said the same thing. In fact, just last year I mentioned it to mom and she said, "You will when I die." I joked with her and said, "You think I will."

When I said that to her, I never thought I'd be sitting her the Friday before Memorial day planning her memorial. Ugh. I hate everything about this.

I had a "moment" this past week. This week has been relatively stressful at work. That coupled with me tamping down my grief finally came out in a horrendous way. I left work on Wednesday. I got no further than a half a block and I had to pull over. The sadness and grief was so overwhelming I couldn't drive. I sat in a parking lot and had my moment. Dried my eyes and continued on my day.

I've been told I'm in a survivor bubble and have been warned that this weekend may be what bursts that bubble. I think that added to my little moment too.

Still, everything is planned. I'll take off tomorrow morning with the Niece and we'll head East. It's supposed to be beautiful so Sparky, a hat, some sun screen, the Niece and I will head out. I'm looking forward to seeing family and friends. I just wish it wasn't under there circumstances.

On a bright note, Ireland is just a week a way!