Warming the heart

Wow. What a whirlwind.

I can't remember the last time we spent consecutive weekends in MD. I also don't know if we've ever logged 2000 driving miles in 8 days. But it was all well worth it. My mom's only brother deserved all that and more.

Unc had asked to be cremated, so we had a viewing and brief memorial service a week ago Friday (Sept 26) and an interment this past Friday. We'd originally planned only to go the first weekend, but pretty much as soon as we arrived found out that the family gathering was really planned around the interment. 'Twixt the two, we saw friends and family that I hadn't seen in decades, including a few I didn't even remember. I heard some stories about my mom's younger days, and of course a lot about Unc. His closest friend came up from Florida and regaled us with story after story about their experiences together.

The best part was probably just the incredible time with the family. Even when we've been home in recent years, there have been too few occasions on which everyone was able to be together. And I haven't been in on that amount of focused time together since we were kids. We were still missing one estranged cousin, but everyone else just really enjoyed being with each other again, with "friends and families and mountains of food" sharing "stories and memories and tales all around." (BTW, if you want to hear one of the most poignant albums I've ever heard, check out Bob Bennett's Songs from Bright Avenue; it's gotta be 20 years old now, but still as excellent as the first time I heard it. It's amazing how the greatest art and music grow out of our darkest days.) Maybe there'll be time to share a story or two here later . . .

To top things off, I was also reunited with two old friends and bandmates who I hadn't seen in about 20 and 25 years, respectively. We knew that Chris, the drummer, had a gig on Friday night within a few blocks of where we were staying, so we decided to drop in on him unannounced. We sat there for about three songs as I nodded and harmonized with the music, my smile growing wider with each number. I could tell he hadn't place me yet, smiling politely back at the patron who was so into the music. I waited until he was making eye contact after finishing a piece, then pointed at him and smiled. I thought his jaw was going to hit one of his tom pads, and he let out with a stunned "Oh. My. God," then pointed us out to his wife, who was there along with their daughter. Apparently we were the second ones to surprise him that night, as his sister had unexpectedly traveled over from the Eastern Shore.

During the first break he came over and we hugged, spending a few minutes getting caught up. He told me about my other friend, who was playing bass in a band at a gig about 10 miles away. Chris described where he thought it was, then verified it on his cell phone. So in the middle of the next set we headed out to find the place, near my stepfather's old neighborhood, passing the poorly marked bar twice before deciding that must be it. Ed recognized me as soon as we walked in the door - a fact he promised to rub Chris' nose into when he gets the chance. In fairness, the second place was better lit. On break we got to meet his wife and catch up with him a bit, too.

All in all, it was an incredible day of reunions.