Funerals are Never Fun

It was a warm and lovely day the day before Christmas, the day we buried him.

We all struggled to get through that day and Dee and I were comforted by our family. The twins both arrived to say goodbye to their Uncle Sean and were invaluable in the planning of the events that must take place. Of course Dee, being the strong, compassionate and take charge leader that she is shouldered a huge part of the weight of that miserable stone. An addendum, which I will always cite is my absolute sense of amazement that she fills me with each and every day. This year we celebrate 25 years together and I often feel as if I am just learning this complex and rare being. About all I was able to do was a song by Jimmy Eat World, Hear You Me. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=537v5Avw_mU

Before he died we had several conversations about a strange new virus that I had been seeing people posting videos about in China. Health care workers in level 3 Hazmat gear doing draconian deeds like forcibly extracting people from their homes and convoys of big trucks surreally spraying disinfectant down the empty streets of Wuhan China. I had remarked that we ought to take notice now, because once it breeched the US mainland, well, judging from the videos seen, it looked to be a real humdinger. 

The ensuing days of December, January and February are a kaleidoscope of grief and sorrow, simply placing one foot in front of the other on more than one occasion to negotiate the days and nights. We were lost and marooned in Houston with no friends, literally no certainty of outcome. Dumas Storage went to Seans Mom and time just kind of blended into an endless stream as we threw ourselves headlong into Dumas Storage and not much else. 

Alarmingly we began to see more and more reports of the strange new virus and weren't surprised when it reared it's ugly head in the US.

During the time I had been literally drinking myself to death. The further I tried to escape things the more I drank, the more unhappy I became. It got to be a washing machine, a closed out wave. It wasn't that I couldn't stop drinking, that sort of thing has never been an issue, it was that I simply didn't want to face things, to face myself most of all. 

We finally scored jobs working for Aramark during the Houston Rodeo. There was relief in the house because we would finally have a bit of income above what we get each month which mainly pays bills right now. It was a temporary gig, only lasting the duration of the rodeo, with the prospect of continuing on a part time basis into the beyond at sporting events at NRG and Minutemaid stadiums. once again, perfect for road nomads in port. We were excited about making some money after the less than profitable (financially anyway) summer.  

The Rodeo was shut down in early March, less than two weeks after it had started when a Sheriffs deputy showed up at the inaugural barbecue symptomatic with what we now know as Corona virus, Covid. It all happened so fast from this now distant perspective that there was literally no warning other than whispered rumors of covered up infections in the city one day and then suddenly the next, we were to finish straightening things up, clock out and go home. Await further instruction. 

We never got definitive word. Instead a time of confusion and chaos had arrived.