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i took friday off for my aunt's funeral.

she was a good woman. she taught her children the value of faith and friendship. she shared her love of life and laughter and food ("where can you find a woman who loves to eat and doesn't weigh more than 50 pounds?" someone asked fondly) with everyone she knew.

i wept through the majority of the service. i kept it mostly under control until the end when i got to my uncle and cousins. then i was a teary-eyed/runny-nosed mess.

the morning turned my thoughts in a direction i wasn't really comfortable with. quite a few people -- including friends of her children -- shared their memories of my aunt. two of her three children spoke. one of her nieces. one of my uncle's cousins (i think). a cousin. i didn't speak at my brother's funeral. i didn't speak at my father's funeral. i might be able to organize a funeral for my mother when that time comes, but i know i won't be able to speak. it's not that i wouldn't want to, it's more that i won't be able to. i talked to cam about it later. he says he'll speak for me. i appreciate it while i deplore the necessity.

cam missed most of the service because nola was in a talkative mood. my silly girl.

afterwards, some of the family went out to lunch (including my mother and her brother and sister -- it was so nice they could attend). cam and i took nola home.

i used to say that i wanted to live a life in which i could truthfully say that i regretted nothing -- i wanted to be able to just say i was sorry for stuff i did/said/thought and then just leave it at that. but as i get older i see that such a thing is not really possible. i am sorry and i do regret. i regret i wasn't closer to my aunt and i am sorry for it. i am sorry i didn't visit her more often and i regret that i let too much time go by without reconnecting. semantics. it's just semantics.



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