Alan will have his funeral Mass at 10am, and then the unbelievable line of cars will follow the hearse to the cemetary where his smile will be laid to rest forever.
Mom went to the viewing for me last night. She got there 20 minutes early, and she said there was already a line stretching to the door. His mom is hanging on, somehow, but his wife Karen was apparently completely distraught. I can well imagine. I feel so bad for her, and although I never met her, I want nothing more than to hug her tight right now.
There were boards and boards full of photos there last night. Mom said there was one of the two of us. I need that pic. I located his parents' address this morning and will send them a sympathy card and ask if they could send me a copy. I'm pretty sure the only photo I have of the two of us was taken on graduation day in 1989, and that photo resides up in NJ in my mother's house somewhere. I doubt she could find it.
When/If I receive a photo from them I will post it. Until then, this will be my last post on this topic. I know it's depressing, and I'm sorry for that. I simply need to get this disbelief out of my system and move on. I am pretty sure I've hit the denial stage. The next stage is anger. I'm fairly sure that will hit soon. With my father's death I skipped denial and went straight into anger from the moment the news was delivered to me. I stayed angry for quite some time. I don't expect this to be any different.
I leave you with a poem.
Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.