He's Gone.
So, I called my dad to see when my parents were coming to town for the RV show. They aren't.
My uncle died Wednesday night, and my dad had to tell my grandmother yesterday morning. Surprisingly enough, Dad sounded sad when he told me. I asked how Gram took it, and he said he wasn't sure. She accepted the fact he was gone, but not that he didn't want a service, and was being cremated. I made the suggestion that to her, that would be very foreign, to which he agreed, and thus was probably the root of her confusion.
She will remember, he thinks. She remembers really good and really bad things. She remembers having the flu a couple weeks back and how many days she had it, and how many times she threw up. She remembers seeing me at Christmas. I think the passing of her son qualifies as a really 'bad' thing.
So, my dad's spending the next couple days over there with her. My mom still cannot travel because of hip problems, and has an MRI scheduled for Sunday. Maybe I'll get to see them then.
Brunch @ Dragonfly after her MRI? Maybe so. It's healthy, and vegan, and all that good stuff. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be the first Latham to live to 70, and with any quality of life.
My only regret is that our family wasn't closer. I wish I had any memories of good times together (or even bad) but I don't. I remember my cousins Ronnie and Randy (and subsequently their wives and families) coming to my grandma's house to visit while I spent the weekend or was staying for summer vacation. Now, those kids are grown and in college. Our disparate ages never allowed for adult conversations, and my foreign nature in regards to the rest of the family makes things awkward now.
Maybe someday I'll get to know them. If not, I'll grow to more greatly appreciate the new family I've made for myself, and the loved ones I hold close.