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My uncle Jack had a stroke two days ago that he wasn't going to be able to recover from. He and my aunt Philis lived in Florida and that's where the stroke happened. I'm not clear if the diagnosis that he wasn't going to recover was performed in Florida or after they flew him up to Columbus, OH, but I guess it doesn't really matter. They were keeping him on life support until his kids could arrive to be fully brought up to speed on what had happened and say their last respects to him before pulling the plug. He passed away at about 9am yesterday.
This is a strange passing for me. I really wrestled with going to the funeral or not and it kept me awake last night. I would have been going up with my dad and we would have been the only ones from the family going. I would have been gone until Thursday. I feel a little selfish for thinking the trip was longer than I wanted to make at this time, but not long enough to accomplish what I'd like to accomplish with it (as if it's about me). I don't see my dad's side of the family very often and I feel like I don't know many of them very well, especially since there's a heck of a lot of them. We've lost spouses on that side of the family, but this is the first of the brothers and sisters to pass on. It's a little bit amazing really. I have 11 aunts and uncles on that side of the family, not counting spouses. I'm pretty sure some of the older ones are in their 80s. My dad is 11 of the 12 and he's 61 now.
Jack was one I wasn't overly acquainted with, but I did like him and I do remember him pretty well, perhaps better than some of the others. He had a great sense of humor, but then all of them do really. The Moore family is full of ridiculous puns and snarky one liners that make you feel dumb for asking a simply question. I'm thinking it must be hereditary, or maybe it's just because that's the kind of silly stuff we've grown up hearing, it gets passed on through generations. Brandy knows what I'm talking about, she's been tortured by my inherited Moore sense of humor for years, heh.
He was one of the ones that was able to make it to our wedding. That adds to my guilt of not forcing myself to go to his funeral. My dad is going up alone, and that makes it even harder that I've decided not to go. I have many good, valid reasons not to go. But the few good, valid reasons for going are feeling heavier than the many I've come up with to not go. None of them have met Jonah yet, but I kind of didn't want to make it about me by a funeral being the first place he met his aunts and uncles on that side of the family. I'm certain Jonah wouldn't quietly sit through a funeral either.
I'm just kind of at a loss of how to feel. Right now, since I just got off the phone to tell my dad I'm not going to go, I'm feeling overwhelmed with guilt. Especially since it turns out that my step-mom isn't even going to be able to go, so dad's making the long drive alone to say goodbye to the first of his brothers to pass on. Ugh, if I keep doing this, I'm going to flip-flop again and call him back to say I'm going. I know he's frustrated that I couldn't seem to make up my mind so that he could make his plans. I'll definitely send something. Flowers, cards, whatever I can think to send that's maybe not cliche. But I'm not sad, really. Maybe it's because we weren't close or maybe I've tricked myself into thinking I know how to deal with death now. I'm sure that wouldn't be the case if I had decided to go to the funeral. I just really don't feel anything, except guilt for not going.
Anyway, the calling will be tomorrow evening and the funeral at 11am on Wednesday with a gathering of family and friends for a potluck after wards. As always, it's not a Moore family affair unless there are lots of tables covered with food somewhere nearby. I think I'll do something to hold my own vigil for the family at these times. At least that will make me feel a little better about not being there, even if I just light a candle and think of them.
Ok, now comes the sadness. . .
This is a strange passing for me. I really wrestled with going to the funeral or not and it kept me awake last night. I would have been going up with my dad and we would have been the only ones from the family going. I would have been gone until Thursday. I feel a little selfish for thinking the trip was longer than I wanted to make at this time, but not long enough to accomplish what I'd like to accomplish with it (as if it's about me). I don't see my dad's side of the family very often and I feel like I don't know many of them very well, especially since there's a heck of a lot of them. We've lost spouses on that side of the family, but this is the first of the brothers and sisters to pass on. It's a little bit amazing really. I have 11 aunts and uncles on that side of the family, not counting spouses. I'm pretty sure some of the older ones are in their 80s. My dad is 11 of the 12 and he's 61 now.
Jack was one I wasn't overly acquainted with, but I did like him and I do remember him pretty well, perhaps better than some of the others. He had a great sense of humor, but then all of them do really. The Moore family is full of ridiculous puns and snarky one liners that make you feel dumb for asking a simply question. I'm thinking it must be hereditary, or maybe it's just because that's the kind of silly stuff we've grown up hearing, it gets passed on through generations. Brandy knows what I'm talking about, she's been tortured by my inherited Moore sense of humor for years, heh.
He was one of the ones that was able to make it to our wedding. That adds to my guilt of not forcing myself to go to his funeral. My dad is going up alone, and that makes it even harder that I've decided not to go. I have many good, valid reasons not to go. But the few good, valid reasons for going are feeling heavier than the many I've come up with to not go. None of them have met Jonah yet, but I kind of didn't want to make it about me by a funeral being the first place he met his aunts and uncles on that side of the family. I'm certain Jonah wouldn't quietly sit through a funeral either.
I'm just kind of at a loss of how to feel. Right now, since I just got off the phone to tell my dad I'm not going to go, I'm feeling overwhelmed with guilt. Especially since it turns out that my step-mom isn't even going to be able to go, so dad's making the long drive alone to say goodbye to the first of his brothers to pass on. Ugh, if I keep doing this, I'm going to flip-flop again and call him back to say I'm going. I know he's frustrated that I couldn't seem to make up my mind so that he could make his plans. I'll definitely send something. Flowers, cards, whatever I can think to send that's maybe not cliche. But I'm not sad, really. Maybe it's because we weren't close or maybe I've tricked myself into thinking I know how to deal with death now. I'm sure that wouldn't be the case if I had decided to go to the funeral. I just really don't feel anything, except guilt for not going.
Anyway, the calling will be tomorrow evening and the funeral at 11am on Wednesday with a gathering of family and friends for a potluck after wards. As always, it's not a Moore family affair unless there are lots of tables covered with food somewhere nearby. I think I'll do something to hold my own vigil for the family at these times. At least that will make me feel a little better about not being there, even if I just light a candle and think of them.
Ok, now comes the sadness. . .
