24 hours
...gh,” became more of a pain than a comfort. Not one of them had to be at the salon in an hour to get ready for wedding pictures with the other side of their families. As I sat through the funeral I was sad and then became very angry. I listened to my father’s half-brother talk about my grandmother. What he said led everyone to believe that his relationship with my grandmother was more important to her than any other. I realized that I was not and would never be, the kind of person who put my relationships before others. I cannot claim someone as my own or keep them from the rest of the world. The only way I would ever be able to grow up was to share what I had and be open to what the people I encounter in life have to share. Two hours later I sat with the girls from the wedding party. I laughed while getting my nails and hair done. No grief showed, there was no time to put my emotions out on the table and put my feelings into order. The wedding was beautiful. After a donut stop at Safeway, my brother, two cousins, and I were at a reception as amazing as the wedding. Ten o’ clock found the extended family at the home of my mom’s mother eating cold fried chicken with ranch dressing. This hour with my family was the way I wanted to feel the rest of my life. Being surrounded by people I loved and who loved me back was what I really needed in hard times. The support of others was helping me grow. The drive home brought us to the curb. A blown tire was now my excuse to reflect and to piece together what I had both gained and lost in the past twenty-four hours. This day showed me who I was and more importantly who I wanted to be. I mad...