Celebration of Mickie's Life

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I realized something the other day. I've been feeling differently since the buy-out happened, basically since I found out that this building will be closing. It's anxiety. I don't like to admit having lots of anxiety, since I try to live a stress-free life, but it's hard to accept that I'm not completely swept up in it given the current circumstances. The funeral for my Aunt Mickie was Saturday. I have stated before how I hate funerals. I have attended one for my grandfather on my mother's side when I was 15 or 16. I don't really remember much about the ceremony, more of the feeling I had afterward. It didn't help the ceremony was literally a catholic mass, which is the most impersonal experience ever. I didn't make a fuss this time about going to the funeral. I knew that this moment wasn't supposed to be about Max's grudges, it was supposed to be a celebration of Mickie's life. The funeral took place in a small Presbyterian church in Sheperdstown, WV, a historic old town whose Town Square reflected that of a 18th century western town. A single road drives through all the center of the quaint town with smaller one way roads surrounding the outskirts. Mickie worked at the library right in the center of this little village. It was a shotgun building; the front spread out about 50 feet, while the back extended another 500 feet. On both sides were one way streets, surrounding it in an awkward fashion. Seeing the library makes you think it's some sort of fancy government building or a meeting place for the Masons given the big eye with a starburst behind it right above the door. Two streets back was the church where we gathered. We were overflowing with friends and family, as the building only supported 350 and with my mother's fami... ... middle of paper ... ...nants of a loved one. The songs chosen were mostly hymns, which feel pretty impersonal to me, but to each his/her own. My uncle Shawn was probably the worst off, drinking himself into repeating the phrase, "Why Mickie?" It's a tragic thing to lose someone. I can't even imagine the pain Steve must feel. He went down to FL for a couple of months after the funeral. He was ready to be out of the snow and wanted to be alone. Of course the Marshall's were mildly miffed by this, but Steve has never been one to play into their whims. Overall I'm happy I went. I was happy to support my mom in this time of need. I was happy to celebrate Mickie's life with family and friends. I was happy to see Mickie be sent off the way she wanted. I was happy to realize I don't need to be a part of the Marshall drama and can still have a relatively good time, barring some judgmental aunts.

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