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4th of July I hate to always dwell on Joe's death...but it was probably the most influential and important thing that has ever happened, in my life. The night before his funeral, I went out to dinner with my parents. For some odd reason, I chose "The Awful Garden" (The Olive Garden). My parents were very, very cool about my emotions, but it was hard to talk about it amid stupid Birthday screaming songs. I don't know why I chose to go there, I hate that place. I was really nervous about Joe's funeral. I was convinced that I would either oversleep, and miss it, or cry way too much. As it turned it, I did neither. I got to the church very early, and ended up greeting people as if I was working an "event". The service was very Catholic, and I stood next to my friends Bill and Jason, both of whom don't believe in religion, so I felt ok and supported when I totally ignored the guy next to me when the service calls for people to turn and greet each other. Jason was in town, on a fluke, for the first time in years (he lives in Germany), and he went with me in my car as we drove to the cemetary. I had never been a part of one of those processions to a cemetary, it was a weird feeling. And Jason and I were laughing and joking about Joe and other memories along the way. I remember thinking, "wow, people watching us drive by must think we are COLD!" When we got to the cemetary, we got much calmer. It was rough. I remember standing there and thinking, "I won't forget where I am right now" (It's a huge cemetary...I wanted to remember where to come back to visit Joe's grave again) I visit Joe's grave about once a month. I never forgot where it was. I miss him so fucking much. That's my entry for tonight. Miss These?
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