On Saturday, we headed upstate for my cousin's wedding and gave ourselves extra time before the ceremony. We lost my grandfather the day after we lost Mike's mom last August and so I never really had a chance to say goodbye. Bernadette's passing was nearly more than we could handle and so my grandpa got lost in the mourning shuffle. They had a funeral for him when we were on our honeymoon, and then when we came home life just got away from us a bit. So nearly a year later, we drove around the town my grandparents used to live in, the same town where my cousin was getting married, and I said goodbye. And then we went on to the wedding surrounded by my Dad and the rest of our family and had a party. We've had so many sad days since August 14th, being there with them for something so happy felt, well, kind of healing.
On Sunday morning after breakfast with the family we got on the road to Carlisle for Josh's wedding,
Plato's Symposium in hand. I stumbled the reading once, and then apologized for the mistake, ignoring rule number one in public speaking. But thankfully there was a beautiful bride and groom standing next to me about to say vows so my mistake was of little consequence.
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