Remembering...

My sister blogged about her memories of Luke's last few months, which triggered a whole slough of things I haven't really thought about in a long time. These are the memories that jumped into my head first:

1. I remember being so incredibly upset that I wasn't there for the viewing because we flew into a blizzard in Omaha and then couldn't get to Hebron because of the weather. We did start out, but it quickly became clear that it was too hazardous to keep driving, especially with 3 young kids in the car, but I was so focused and desperate to be there with my family that I was totally irrational about it. My dear husband was driving and made the decision to turn around and go back to my brother's for the night. I was so angry at him even though I knew deep down he was right. I'm quite sure I said some not very nice things to him, but fortunately he forgave me for it.
2. I also remember that Luke almost missed his own funeral - can't remember exactly why, but he would have found that funny I'm sure.
3. Seeing Shorty and Delores and the W'burg group did me in that day. I had been holding up pretty well until I saw them and then I just lost it. The fact that they had been there at the beginning of his life and been through all of that with us and had braved the horrible weather to be there with us for his funeral meant so much.
4. I remember the bitter bitter cold by the gravesite. Now that I think about it, maybe that's why I hate the cold so much now, because I associate it with that day.

It's interesting what stands out for each of us. I do have two very specific memories from the year before California. They both involve food...go figure. The first was that I had come for a visit and he made me the best hash browns I've ever had for a late snack. The second was the July before California, when he was recovering against all odds...he didn't have much of an appetite, so when he asked for some macaroni and cheese and there wasn't any at home, I said I would go into town and get it if he promised he'd eat some. He said he would but only if it was Kraft macaroni and cheese. He had a list of reasons why it was the best, but I can't remember what they were. So I drove into town to buy Kraft macaroni and cheese for him. To this day, I smile when I see blue Kraft boxes. Wierd, the things we remember...