Good Morning. Hello. How are you? #1430
A quick trip to Alaska for my cousin's funeral.
Good morning. Well, for you. Not for me. It is just about 6PM, Alaska Time, Sunday night. I have just been dropped off by my sister back at my hotel after spending the day with her, my nephews and my mother. I have just under eight hours until my flight. I might take a nap. I might take a shower. Maybe I’ll do both.
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It’s been a good, if quick trip. Landed at 3 AM Friday night, Saturday morning. To the hotel, asleep, slept till 11, got all gussied up in a suit, my sister picked my up.
We ran errands for my cousin Mike’s funeral: val had made the photo boards, we went and got a guest book, flowers. We bought some provisions for me for the hotel.
Here is Mikey’s obituary. Val and Bonnie wrote it, I think.
My hotel is Sophie’s Station, which I have talked about many-a time in GMHHAY. I used to work here in high school, in the 80’s, as a housekeeper. I used to tell them that when I checked in, but they never cared, so I have stopped bothering. Most of the rooms have not changed since I worked here. The couches, the carpets, the bedspreads. But they keep the place clean, even as it ages. And most importantly, they have a kitchen in each room, it’s a hotel of suites. I like that.
After obtaining provisions we went to the church. My sister very astutely pointed this out: a useful thing about having a church in your life is you can have proper memorial services and funerals. For free. Churches are pretty amazing.
This particular church was my church as a child, First United Methodist Church. Eventually around 12 or 13 my mother gave up making me go to church. Around 14 she gave up on Sunday school. I always loved the Christmas-eve candlelit service, though, and I have a dim memory of accompanying my parents to one, during my college years. I am saying this to tell you that I had not stepped foot in 30 years. But jesus did the memories come flooding back. I spent so much time there. I was in the church choir. I was in the bell choir. I would go there for choir practices, I would hang out there while my mother did her choir practice. I participated in the youth group.
Multiple people who were working for the church and doing things for this memorial service remembered me as a kid. Turns you can go back. It was.. a lot.
The service itself was a god-focused church service, but my sister did a lovely eulogy, and the woman who sang the songs is someone I have known my entire life, sang at my dad’s memorial, sand with me in a choir 40 years ago. Very comforting. I sat with my cousins and my mom.
A lot of people showed up, which was a testament to Mikey’s kindness, his long years of working in this community, and the giganticness of the Buchanan side of his family. Our mothers are sisters, Coghlans. Mike’s mother, my aunt, married a name named Bill. He passed a few years back, I missed his funeral, deeply regretted it, felt terrible about it and that spruned this vow of mine that I would never miss any funeral of someone who I cared about. Along with Andy, Annie — the covid deaths. Anyway, Bill comes from a big ole Fairbanks family. I grew up with them all. Giant Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners alternating between ours and the Buchanans. I saw my childhood babysitter at the funeral. She was one of Bill’s… Sisters maybe? Cousins? Man, I do not know. That family is big.
And then there’s Portia, Mike’s saint of a wife who is quite literally holding my family together, watching Val’s kids, taking care of my mom. She is, of course, devestated at the sudden death of her husband. Half the reason I came is because of Portia. I cannot convey how much I owe her, though I did my best to convey it, my thanks, my sympathy. People tell me I am a good hugger. I put it to use.
After the service me and my sister and our cousins and aunt went to dinner, and then to famed Goldstream Alaska gathering place Ivory Jacks. We spent a lot of time trying to figure out how I was related to my first cousin’s kids (we are first cousins once removed, it was decided).
Catching up with the cousins was good. I’m the oldest of the seven, now six of us. Mike was second youngest. I was eight when Bonnie started having her five kids, and by the time Mikey was born, I wasn’t long for college. I think maybe this funeral made us all realize we need to make better relationships as adults.
It felt good. I am happy to have been with them. I am happy I came. My first cousin Mary drove me home from Ivory Jack’s. I had had two drinks, We laughed about how after my dad’s funeral, she had also driven me back to the hotel and I was hammered. We had a good talk then and a good talk this time. Talked a lot about our grandmother, about her kids (one of them is getting married soon!). It was good.
My old high school friend Harper, and his wife Jen, live out by Ivory Jack’s so they came by as well. I love seeing them. In his spare time as an Oceanographer, Harper spent seven years personally manually building his whole house. He had told me about that last summer, or was it the summer before, at a bonfire, and it was super inspirational to me in terms of feeling confident enough to undertake this studio attic.
I know all these people here in Alaska see each other often, but for me, it is intense being with people who have known me since I was a baby. It’s intense having this shorthand about past experiences, common things you have shared, that you don’t need to explain. Intense in a good way, though. It felt good to see these people. It felt good to be with them, even in our grief.
Today was mom and sis and the nephews. Lucas, the older one, calls me “uncle Rick” and I love it so much. Lucas gave me a toy, it was kind of amazing: it is this green frog with a belly full of beads and it comes with a little book and the book tells you to look for this or that item inside the frog’s belly. I worked on it for an hour.
When I was done, I texted Portia to let her know. I was very proud.
The flight up was brutal, I love Alaska Airlines but cmon man, you’re seats hurt. Also they fly out of Terminal one at RDU, I had never been to Terminal one in my ten years in the Triangle (they only recently moved there). It shakes. Like when people get up and walk around, the floor shakes. Concerning.
And the flight home tonight will be brutal. I will land at 5, I will tackle rush hour, if I am lucky I’ll see my daughter before she goes to bed. I’ll wake up at 6:30, the thing I hate most in my life, and I will see my daughter and we will go to school and life will go back to normal, right?
Right?
It is probably not completely fitting, but it’s the only playlist i happen to have ready today, so here is an Ambient playlist for you. I want you to know, though, that I did take a picture of Justa Store — my sister kindly drove me there just for the photo an hour or two ago — but I will save that photo for the day I post my next Justa Mix. For today, you get Ambient. It does open with David Ross Benson, though, one of my old friends from Fairbanks, Val and I drove by one of his old houses today that was nice. Did not see him or any friends this trip, save Harper and Jen, but I’ll be back up here with the fam this summer for ten days for a friend reunion, so plenty of time for that.
Love you all.
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Good Morning, Hello, How Are You vol 1.