Funerals bring up other feelings in addition to sadness.

With Grandma there was a sense of relief, which seems unkind, but it’s not. She’d been mostly sad and lonely since her husband died four years ago, and her health was terrible – she was bedridden, which is no life for a woman as active as she was.

I also felt a clear sense of endings. She was my last grandparent, and her death officially put a line through that row on the family tree. Sad but true.

Then there was the, um, friskiness. (I’ve had inappropriate urges before.) Driving that first day from New Mexico to South Dakota, I was not only sad, I was, how shall I say? Thinking about activities that certainly wouldn’t be happening for me in Winner.

It was so overwhelming that as I drove through Colorado Springs I glanced at a billboard and could swear it said “Sex & Grieving.” (Yes! I thought. Confirmation from the universe.) But when I looked again it actually said “Six & Geving,” a local insurance company. The universe was just messing with me.

That passed by the time I got to Winner, when the other emotions settled in for the weekend.

The weather was perfect for a funeral. Fog and gray skies and icy winds. Uncomfortable to be out in, but it made for some beautiful landscape.

South Dakota shack

An outbuilding at Grandma and Grandpa’s farm.

South Dakota dirt road and truck

A road to somewhere, or nowhere.

South Dakota barn

The barn on the farm, still standing, still solid. Good to know some things remain.

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