Funeral

I'm doing so much and I'm experiencing so much success and for the first time in my life that has corresponded with a lot of fun and rest at the same time. I have put in my work and now the good times are beginning to roll in many areas of my life. Work is not so stressful at the moment and things are under control, I am going where I want to go during my time off and getting to think about things I haven't had time to think about in a long time.

I had two three day weekends in a row, the first one planned, the second unplanned. The first one I spent in Tehachapi with Cheyenne relaxing and enjoying nature, something that I always enjoy doing.

On Thursday night I was in a strange feeling that I can't explain. I just knew something bad was going to happen. In the car on the way out to the desert I remember talking about death.

The next morning when my mom's name came up on my caller I.D. my stomach lurched. I couldn't pick up the phone because it was nearly dead, but I called from a land line to listen to her message and my jaw dropped.

I don't know what I believe in anymore. Maybe there is a god, but I don't know anything about him and I won't pretend to and maybe he has no interest in interacting with our lives whatsoever. I've never been one to believe in the supernatural or anything like that either, but somehow I knew that message from my mom would be about death.

And it was.




My second trip was for a very sad purpose, and I experienced for the first time in my life the true paradox of a funeral:

Here was this family friend that my parents were so close to, and now he's gone forever... and yet he had such a wonderful life and was such an amazing person that it still makes me smile to remember him. Of course the service was hard... but I have been isolated from my family for so long that it was amazing to see everyone together again. Some people I hadn't seen for almost ten years and then there were some people who hadn't even been in the same room since the 80s, or 90s.

The night that Bob died my parents were both there together even though they've been divorced for more than ten years and until recently haven't really talked to each other.

I pretty much owe my existence to Robert Queyrel, because without him, my parents wouldn't have even met. Even though I never knew him as well as I would have liked to and will now never get the chance, I've taken it upon myself to enjoy my life and do the things I've always wanted to do because I owe it to him to do that. It makes me sad that I couldn't be there for Bob when he died, but I'm glad that there were people there for him and that made the last years of hid life more enjoyable, my Mom being one of them. Seeing her example will forever have an effect on me.

Yesterday one of my friends told me that where her family was from in Africa, a funeral is a celebration of life. I've never really understood celebrations like this until now.

Life is so precious. If only we could all remember that on a day to day basis and not get caught up in the things that don't really matter. If only we could forget our emotions and sentiments for one minute to actually listen to what people are saying. If only we could be completely genuine about our feelings to each other. If only we could be ourselves and forget about what society wants us to do. If only we could forget about money and forget about our career paths and take a moment to enjoy each other's company--because these people will not be alive forever.

Starting now, I'm going to try my best to make sure all these things happen in my life. Of course I valued these things before, but I feel as if my life is at a huge turning point and Bob has been a big part of that.

Even though the funeral service is over and everyone has gone back home, I will never forget Robert Queyrel. It is true after all that people can live in our hearts forever.