The Smell of Flowers in the Mourning

Sitting here waiting to hear my fate regarding a big bad boy of a psychology test that I definitely can't concentrate on. Today we buried my great uncle and tried to make jokes to laugh over chicken marsala and pineapple juice at The Barge. This morning I woke up to the birds outside crying, and I knew that before the day was over, I'd hear lots more crying. I was right. I stood up in front of everyone in the funeral home and read my last blog post to them. It felt good, like I was giving Uncle Charlie one last gift before we really parted. But I can't even say that because when I felt the sun emerge today from behind the clouds, I smiled knowing that it was him. And when I drove from my old high school to my soon-to-be-old college, "Don't forget about me," was playing in the background as the chorus to some easy breezy song. It's something realizing we don't own one another really. There's no use in petty drama or disagreements because in the end we all wind up shedding a tear.