On Tuesday we found out that my Great Uncle Tom passed away. It was quick and relatively painless and he was 87 years old. I don't want to say that we were prepared - but it wasn't a shock. He was a wonderful man who looked like an exact replica of my grandfather - just add 10 years.
Friday afternoon I went down for the wake and Saturday was the funeral. Of course, Saturday we already had about 10 million other things to do, so squeezing it in AND finding a babysitter wasn't easy.
Friday evening Kirby and I took Zachary fishing for a little bit. I realize that I can be an incredibly anxious person. We went to the docks...open water...Zach isn't even close to a pro at swimming...I was a nervous wreck! New rule: Life vests while Zach is at the docks AND he has to stay withing 2 feet of the edge. No great pictures because it was pretty dark.
The only CATCH of the night (I snagged one but it got away before we got it to land...doesn't count unless you can bring it ashore):
Zach and Dad getting the fish off the hook and back into the water:
Saturday morning we had a baseball game, pictures and the home run derby with Zachary. I apologize for the pictures, I was using the zoom on most of them and it just doesn't work all that well (we really need a new camera...I'll get more into the reason why we are waiting in a bit).
The team:
Zach and his fellow rappers:
Watching the other team during their home run derby:
He's a monster when he hits that ball:
During his hits during the home run derby (he hit 180 feet for his three hits):
After our morning at the ball park Kirby and I flew home to change and get to the funeral. Thankfully, Courtney was willing to come help Tom with the boys for the afternoon and evening (there is no way I could have left them alone with Tom for 7+ hours - someone would have been dead by the time we got home - likely Tom).
The funeral was, well, a funeral. It was sad and hard and...well, just awful. I was fine until I watched my grandfather...watching a man that you see as stronger than life cry...it just kills you. That was the hardest part. I have seen my grandfather cry a total of two times and they both killed me.
After the funeral we went to the burial. As we pulled over to the side of the road our van scraped bottom - HARD. As we walked up to the car afterwards we saw that something was leaking....badly. Come to find out we tore a huge gash in the oil pan. There was no way that van was going much further. Thank god we took two vehicles down (in case there was an emergency at the house and one of us needed to get back). I drove the van to my father's barnyard, parked it and that is where it still sits...
We have had plans to go with my family to a comedy night since Easter. Even though our day was jam packed and our van was parked (possibly for good) we still went and I am so glad we did. All 4 comics were hysterical. I laughed until I cried. There were a few uncomfortable moments: one started ranting about Bush...my father directly behind us - Alex and I turned around at the same time, caught a glimpse of Dad's face and sank into our seats, and one spoke at length and in some detail about performing...well, to put it nicely...jeez, there is NO way to put it nicely....let's just say he was describing how to please a woman - there is NO WAY to watch that, laugh and feel comfortable while your father, his wife and a couple that you look at as family (and have known you since FOREVER) are sitting directly behind you - although it was really funny (the sound effects he used will never be allowed to enter my head again without seeing that, however). And one talked about this video (that I have never seen - OMG):
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