Long day. Long Weekend. Long everything.

An Uncle of mine died last week. The funeral was on Sunday. My family couldn't go. Too long to drive, too expensive to fly. In January My mom and I are going to have to drive out, though, to pick up some things. It didn't really hit me until today. I was walking to class listening to Polly Jean's cover of Is that all there is? and I just burst into tears. This is all there is. But, I wasn't crying because this sucks, on the contrary, I felt very lucky.
Family is a complicated thing, at least for me, I have no reason to assume it's different for other people. You could say that he was the creepy uncle that no one ever talked about. I was too young to remember, but his marriage broke up over an issue of domestic violence. Which is to say, he was violent with his children. One of whom has no contact with the family whatsoever. (Which is sad, because she is the other geek girl in the family.) However, that's not how I remember him. He used to always come and visit at Christmas with his Father. He liked brussel sprouts and classic movies. I think the first time I saw Casablanca (well, the first twenty minutes of it, I fell asleep) was with him in our living room. When I think of Christmas, that is one of the first things that pop into my head. He hasn't visited since Grandpa died, and we've moved, but that's still a very powerful memory for me. He will be missed.