My wife was her usual stoic self, as was my son.
Me... everything everyone said at the service made me cry.
No one else was effing crying. Just me.
Well... my dad, too.
I haven't seen my dad in 11 months, but there he was for my mother-in-law's funeral service.
I realized as we were both crying, that it was actually remembrance of my mom.
How selfish it seems, even if it is true.
My mother died 23 years ago at an age I am fast approaching... an age far too young.
And here I was... and my father too... crying because we both knew deep in side that we were still grieving our own loss from 23 years ago.
Death, it appears, is a reminder to the living of their own mortality, too... that one day soon enough that we won't be here any more... a sobering and frightening thought... because what does it all mean... what is the purpose of life and rife?
I used to think I was invincible.
I would haul myself up onto the roof of my seven-story apartment building in Japan... with one small slip causing me to plummet to my death on the parking lot below.
Driving 240 kph as the world slowed down around me... confident that I could control a car that could easily become uncontrollable.
Running between subway stations or jumping down from the platforms and running across to the other side of the station.
Death wish, stupidity, naivety or just plain luck... or was it the knowledge that it just wasn't my time yet... that I'll die when I'm 87 when I fall through the ice on a pond thanks to a reoccurring dream I have had since I was 3, and not had since I left Japan... has it really been 24 years?
Has it really been 18 years since I first met my mother-in-law, Ruth, after my first date with her daughter? Eleven years + since the birth of my son?
How many years I have been writing this blog? Why?
Where does the time go?
This is the problem with being introspective... I ask too many questions.
It's also why when I write these blogs I prefer to answer as many anticipated questions YOU might have on any given topic.
But I never have all the answers... and that bothers me.
I'm taking Wednesday off from work because my son is sad and misses his grandmother. I didn't realize his grief because he was practically laughing at me for crying my head off at the service.
I guess we all grieve at different times and in different ways.
And for different lengths of time.
I know we probably have all lost someone dear to them... and I know we all deal with it in different ways... but dammit... after 23 years?