I am sitting in my rental car at Riverside National Cemetery, having gotten here way too early for the interment of my dad’s ashes later today. He died a month ago. The weirdness of having no parents left (I keep thinking “I’m fresh out of parents” which is also weird but I’m not overly experienced in this so I’m cutting myself some slack) is matched only by the weirdness of writing my dad’s eulogy. I don’t know that I got my take on his life’s poem right. He was complicated and remarkable and my dad.
I am sitting in my rental car at Riverside National Cemetery, having gotten here way too early for the interment of my dad’s ashes later today. He died a month ago. The weirdness of having no parents left (I keep thinking “I’m fresh out of parents” which is also weird but I’m not overly experienced in this so I’m cutting myself some slack) is matched only by the weirdness of writing my dad’s eulogy. I don’t know that I got my take on his life’s poem right. He was complicated and remarkable and my dad.
You got me weepy again, Tina.
How perfectly wonderful to experience this Zephyr lifting the damp hair on my forehead again, Tina. Thank you for this, so much this.