I spent three continuous days drunk. Well, the evenings anyway, so I guess that doesn’t really count as continuous. There was a lot of drinking, is what I’m trying to convey. Apparently, that’s what my family does best.
Last year we all got together for my grandfather’s funeral. It was probably the first time in five years that we were all together – just the family – and we all commented on the fact that it shouldn’t take a funeral to get us all together. So my mom started planning a family reunion. Even though she was planning a surprise party for my dad in September. And everyone said they’d attend, even though right after my dad’s surprise party we threw a surprise party for my mom in San Francisco. So, after not seeing anyone for five years, we saw them four times in one year.
When it rains, it pours.
But, as evidenced by my drunk post from Saturday, my family is pretty awesome. We have a lot of fun together – even without alcohol. We went rafting on Saturday – below is Wes getting soaked but taking it like a champ.
I think that our guide put the boat in position to soak me the other times, though. And later Wes did “help” (read: push) me into the water, so I think he totally deserved this.
Sunday morning and afternoon we made a trip to a local winery and spent the afternoon listening to some local music and trying to enjoy some wine. Even with as much as we like to drink, we weren’t able to finish two bottles between seven people. There had just been too much wine the rest of the weekend.
I’m with Holly on the Star Spangled Banner. It gets me. The old patriotic songs always do. I’m not talking about Toby Keith threatening to shove his boot up someone’s ass. I’m talking about those “amber waves of grain” and people who would “proudly stand up and defend her still today.” I think that we got into a war that was pointless and can’t be won, but I still get goosebumps when I hear the old school patriotic songs.
The grass is always greener on the other side.
Last week a vehicle carrying four coworkers was involved in an accident. One person was killed at the scene. One person came out with superficial injuries (in this case, broken bones count as superficial). One person is recovering after extensive surgery. And the other one, a woman with two kids, is still unconscious almost a week later.
I have a very overactive and morbid imagination and sometimes, randomly, I have visions of family members or loved ones dying. There’s nothing in the past that would make me fearful of losing people I love or care about – the first person I was old enough to understand losing was my grandfather last summer – but I still think about it sometimes. I’m not talking about vivid visions of my parents’ bodies on the highway; mostly what I imagine is the after effects: the hospital or some family member calling to tell me what happened. Wes’ work calling to say that there was an accident. I think about who I would call and what I would do.
In my imagination (by the way, that sounds so whimsical. Please don’t think that I go around hoping for loved ones to die just so I can enact these scenes I imagine in my head. I don’t. When I think of this I live in fear that my thoughts will make it come true.) I have to decide who I call first. Who is going to be the one who can pick me up the quickest. Am I at work? Coming home from the gym? On vacation and away from a phone?
Luckily, I’ve never had to live this.
But after hearing about the accident last week these thoughts pop up in my head. What would it be like to be a passenger in the car? What are the last thoughts? What are the families going through right now? Even with my active, morbid imagination, I can’t fathom what it would be like to actually hear the news.
If I was a praying person, I would pray for speedy recoveries. But the victims and their families are in my thoughts. And I hope that I never get close enough to know what this is like.