This past week the whole family had to fly to New Mexico to attend a funeral. PJ's uncle had passed away, and we all had to scramble to get tickets at the last minute.
It was a bit sad for me to be there, but I wasn't really close to the uncle, so my tears were minimal. I got misty-eyed watching the reactions of his family, though, especially my mom-in-law and my grandmother-in-law. I especially felt for Grandma; it must be so difficult, burying your children. That hit home with me, because of the twins. I'm hoping I never have to live through that.
When we got home from the funeral, the family just sat around at the dinner table, talking, laughing, remembering him and his happy-go-lucky nature. Also scaring some of the sisters with stories about how he made his presence "felt".
Interestingly, when we got home on Friday night, one of the patio lights was on--and I distinctly remembered making sure all the lights were off before we left. Just his way of saying goodbye, I guess.
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