25 years ago I met my friend Theresa. We were freshmen in college and in the Culinary Arts program together. We instantly hit it off. She quickly introduced me to her family and I was absorbed into their clan. Her sisters became my sisters. The following year, my sissy joined me at college and she was absorbed also.
We don't get to see each other often, but that doesn't diminish our relationship. We are family.
Theresa's mama died recently. I loved Mama Moreno. She would grab my face and kiss my cheeks every time I saw her. I knew I couldn't miss her funeral. I also knew I didn't want to go alone so I talked my mom and sissy into joining me for the services in Oregon. I flew into Idaho Thursday evening and my mom and I mooched dinner off my other sissy. It was a wonderful evening with my favorite Italians. The next morning, I met up with my sister before dawn to drive to the funeral in the bleak winter cold.
Despite the circumstances, it was a wonderful day. I laughed so hard with my sissy and mom on the car ride that I cried. I haven't done that in a long time. We caught up on life and enjoyed each other's company.
At the funeral, I hugged my other sisters and cried. I contemplated the last 25 years and was grateful for good friends, for a good life, and for the knowledge that death is not the end. After a delicious feast of Mexican food, we hit the road again and drove into the nighttime.
Those few days left me feeling fulfilled. I'm grateful for lasting friendship. I'm grateful for a husband who didn't even hesitate to support me when I told him I wanted to go to the funeral. I'm grateful for the hours I was able to spend with my mom and my sister. I'm grateful to love others and to be loved.
Death can be incredibly sad and traumatic. But it also brings people together in a beautiful way.
I'm grateful for the beautiful part.
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