Melancholy

It seems whenever I want to find words, I lack them the most. I would call it a curse. One of my friend's father's passed away a week ago yesterday. I think most would admit it had been a long time coming, but still his passing didn't seem timely. Wednesday evening, headed across town to see the family, my mind raced to the few memories I held of him. I must have been 11 when I saw him last, it was surely a Bozeman High Soccer game. As I struggled to fix my mind on a clear image, the voice in the back of my head screamed silently that I was grasping at straws. I settled my thoughts and decided maybe a hug was the best thing I could do. The service was good, given the circumstances, and the reception was filled with love.

In other news, I no longer drive the "go-bot" (named for the cheap transformer rip-offs by my cousin-in-law). No the Nissan, finally nearing the end of its life, has been traded. As strange as it seems, I was partially heartbroken when I gave her up. She was my aunt's. Possibly the last major thing any of us had (minus the red wool coat hanging in my closet). There are baby photos of me in it...and as I drove her off to be sold, I realized how many memories I had in that car. First time pushing curfew, first time moving into the dorms...and lets not forget passing my drivers test. But it was more than that...it was hers, and as much as I complained and whined about stuck doors, shaking steering wheels, and the like...I felt untouchable in that car. It is for the best, things can't be held onto simply for sentimental reasons. But that didn't keep me from shedding a few tears.

Next week I'll head out to see my uncle. The results of the latest CT scan are good. The chemo has kept the cancer from spreading so far. And the doctor seems hopeful. A large part of me tries not to buy into his hope. Its not that I don't believe it could turn out ok, I suppose its rather that if it doesn't I don't want to be devastated. We'll see what happens.