Waiting for my brother

I’m waiting for my brother to arrive so we can attend the funeral of our cousin Sal. My mom had called over the weekend and said that Sal, who was just 45 years old, had a massive heart attack and passed away last week. I figured I had missed the services until my brother called yesterday to see if I was interested in going.

As I’ve mentioned in the past, my family isn’t exactly as close as it used to be. Even though we all lived within 20 miles of each other before the storm scattered us across the country, I haven’t seen anyone in my extended family, including Sal, in a decade or so.

Since the last funeral.

PS: It has just occured to me that, since the storm ruined all my clothes, I don’t really have anything particularly mournful and funeraly to wear except for a dark blue shirt and the pair of charcoal Dickies I packed when I evacuated.

More later, when I get home.