Thanks, Grief.

I apologize for the radio silence these past few days. At least, I think it has only been a few days. To be honest, I have no idea what day it is or how many days have past since I got to Miami. Grief has a strange way of making time expand and contract. Throw in the chaos of a large group of people, plus alcohol and here we are.

These past few days have been hard. It is hard to say goodbye to someone you love. It is hard to go through the rituals of burial. It is hard to go back to places you used to go as a child. It is hard to watch people you love, who are usually the strong and stoic ones, cry openly. 

I don't know yet all the lessons this past week have taught me. It is going to take some time to unpack it all. I do know that I am part of an insane and magical tribe of people. These people who are warm and welcoming to others, who are generous and wild. I also know that loving somebody with all your guts is scary and hard but so worth it. Even losing my uncle, I know that I loved him and he loved me. That is such a beautiful gift. It is worth the heartbreak of losing that person. 

My aunt Jenny's eulogy was my favorite. She talked about how rough this year has been and how, at times, she struggled to find her faith. But just when it felt like she had been abandoned, she saw God's love being sent to her through the people who loved her brother. This speaks to me so much.

Even with losing my uncle, the election results and whatever other garbage this dumpster fire of a year throws at us, I know that I have still seen god's love for me in places. One of my grade school teachers, Mrs. Hull, used to say "Two men looked out from behind prison bars, one saw mud, the other saw stars."

I am gonna keep my head up, deal with the mud but look at the stars.

Thank you to all of you who have been so loving and supportive of our family during this time. We deeply appreciate it.