We just left Dorothy’s funeral.
It was a good funeral – as good as a funeral can be. Trent did a fabulous job remembering his grandmother, embodying her best virtues, and leaving his family with the kind of wisdom she would have shared herself.
I know she is proud of him. The baby of the baby, become such a fine man.
Driving back to the hotel, across downtown San Antonio in the rain, Van Halen’s “Dreams” came on the radio. It’s a song I used to play for my team in high school, to get them pumped up before competition. We’d sit in a circle on the gym floor, holding hands, with our eyes closed, and envision all our dreams coming true to rockin’ 80s guitar riffs.
Trent knows that story. “We can’t be sad when DREAMS is on!” I said, blowing my nose and turning up the volume.
Actually, though, it turns out we can. And that’s okay.
We miss you, Grandma. We always will.