william braveheart
funeral today. i don't feel like writing about it; you had to be there, i guess. but it was weird because none of it seemed real. all the red and yellow roses surrounding that picture of billy up in the front, and to the left of the picture, the small metal urn that holds his ashes. it was so small. that's all i could think when i looked at it. and in the end that's what we are reduced to: ashes. this strong man now held in an urn no taller than the length of my forearm. (sorry, couldn't think of anything else to compare it with.) that in itself i suppose made it all surreal, and i cried and mourned him and celebrated for him, yeah -- but it doesn't really seem that he is gone from this earth forever. he is gone on vacation maybe, or he is even dead perhaps, but only for a few months. come thanksgiving or christmas, i will be expecting him again. i don't know what exactly to say.it's still true. and i still miss you.