Keep On Counting Stars

Brittany's Dad's Funeral was today.

I drove Kayla and Slater, and holy shit. I expected it'd be easier because I didn't know her dad, but as soon as you walk in and Brittany's half crying and her mom actually is crying and her brother is somewhere between the two, I realized I was really wrong.

We walked in and said hello to Brittany but waited outside for the rest of the DHS crew to show up. Potts, Sarah, Sarah P, Celina, Shannon, Casey, Ryan, Jamie, Christie, Ricci, Dever, Dixon, Micheal F + that gang (Probably forgetting some) showed up at different times.

Me and Slater went in first to get out of the way, pay our respects.
Earlier, Brittany had mentioned cremation because her mom said he was cold, always cold so they would make him warm again. I assumed he'd be cremated, but he wasn't. It was a closed casket but when Slater and I walked up it was really weird to know he was there....but he wasn't.

And there was a huge bouquet with white ribbons that said 'Husband' and 'Father' in gold, and a bouquet below that said 'Brother' and two more behind him. They were all huge, and beautiful. I saw the pictures of Brittany with her dad, her dad with Chris (her brother), his wedding photo, and he became a person -that was loved- to me. Genna started crying behind me and I barely looked at the pictures because it hurt. Michelle cried and Slater who had kinda been crying the whole time was right behind me as we booked it out of there. We stood outside, and in the foyer, and in the hallway, and set up chairs a bit before the service started around 11:11. Last night I wished that Brittany would cry today, and I got that. Today I wished this would help her. I don't know if I'll get that, or if I already have.

The service started in a song about God art Great or something, and no one sang along from our school, mostly because even though the words are there, unless you go to church (Which most of us don't) you still can't sing along.

Donald Waite, 51, was oldest of three, his youngest sibling spoke first. Liz talked about how he would look out for her and he almost beat up her bully and helped her ride a two-wheel and how he was so chill. She cried at the end when talking about the bully, but got it together and said he was very proud of his family and always talked about them on Thursday nights with the boys.

Next his neighbors did a poem about him growing up and his family and such.

Then his younger Brother, Ed (I think?) did a thing about how he was good with Technology and building sheds and things Mike Holmes would be proud of, how he wanted to know how everything worked 'and I just wanted to know if it worked.' He said he was chill and always talked about Brittany and Chris and how proud he was of them.

Then the minister got up and did her 'when Moses asked what his name was, he replied 'I am who I am' but new translations are 'I am there'' or something, I don't know. I spent the entire rest of that counting to ten in French, German, Japanese, Korean and English. I put my fingers together like Mr. Burns and used my right hand to count 1-5 and my left 6-10. I must have started saying them because Jamie kept looking at me funny but I never looked back at him. Me him and Michelle hugged (awkwardly, because we stood on a bench at the back of the balcony with the rest of the kids)

When the casket was being carried out, Bagpipes started and a woman on the front row of the balcony sobbed violently. We thought it was Brittany for a bit, which made me almost fall apart but I kept thinking I had to keep it together because I couldn't have Brittany looking out for me, too. She would, you know.

We went outside and the hearse was gone (Brittany's Status for today: & as the Hurse pulled away, a butterfly flew back to us, over the crowd, past my family, and straight up. I love you, Daddy ♥ ) but I didn't see that.
Jamie was crying sort of Hard, and Slater never looked up, and I went to give Shannon a hug only to notice she was actually crying sort of hard too. I even gave Micheal a hug.

Eventually we went inside and downstairs, ate some veggies n dip, fruit, cupcakes, brownies, ect ect, (lifestyles blueberry cookies or something. Fucking GOOD) and Genna and Michelle tried to guess who likes Brittany but I wouldn't tell even though it's painfully obvious. PAINFULLY. And he kept asking what she was doing this weekend. Hello? NOT the time, maybe? And I already told him that there's someone else, but he doesn't seem to care. PUMP YOUR BREAKS, HOMBRE. Shit.

Me and Slater were the last to leave, I picked up flute 6 because mine is broken (Dropped it on Thursday, 2nd 2nd key is broken so I can't play D. It'll be fixed on Friday, but I'm screwed till then. Exams on the 15. WOOFREAKINGHOO) and Slater handed in his History, but mine wasn't done. So I finished it at 3:30 ish and sent it to mrs. Lyons. I gotta fake the research Protfolio still though. Meh. And I have a sociology ISU still....

Fuck that. I went to Tae Kwon do testing, to support Keenan and Colleen who tested, but I didn't. (I was supposed to be camping, but it got rained out) Colleen got triple promotion to yellow, no mistakes. Keenan made a mistake on one-step sparring 14, and 16, and couldn't break his boards but his terminology was double blackstripe so he got a double promotion to single red stripe.

They asked Colleen to count to ten in Korean, and I started to cry then, because I counted to ten in Korean to keep strong in the service. I pulled it together by concentrating on the terminology he asked her.

Distract, Distract, Distract.

But when I came back I just felt shitty. I changed my status to something like 'I'll be at the park at Fairport if anyone wants someone to cry with tonight' but when I got there there were a bunch of eighters so I walked around the Plaza like I had somewhere to go to then walked back, I went to the smokers place on the traintrack shortcut but bugs were pissing me off so I waited for a train to go by, recorded it, got scared by the sound it makes as it passes, wondered why I needed that, then left. I walked around some, intending to go to the beach where the fallen tree is, maybe to the secret place with tables (but that'd make me think of the day Sarah S left me there) but got to Westshore and mom called to say burgers were on the grill.

The entire time through Dinner dad was saying "You okay kiddo?" "What's wrong?" and mom kept saying "Do you want some Greek Salad, Kayle?"

Dad, fuck, I'm fine. Bugger off. He said "What's got you down? The funeral" "Nothing, but I'm tired." "Why?" "I couldn't sleep" "Because of the funeral?" "No, I haven't slept well lately." "Because of Her dad?"

FUCK OFF ALREADY, GOD. TAKE. A. HINT.

And Mom must have asked me if I wanted Greek salad 5 times. Then she was telling me there's green tea stuff downstairs and lychee stuff on the fridge door and lemonade and five alive.

Yeah, I noticed. I kinda live here too. It's like when we're a restaurant and she keeps reading me the menu and I say "I'm on the same page as you" (a.k.a. Yeah, I got that. That's the point in the Menu. So I can read it.) or she moves my stuff and says 'there's a movie here' (just happened) Yeah, I got that. It's in my pile of stuff. I put it there. I rented it yesterday from the Library (Mononoke) and oh lawdy, if she tells me to do homeowrk, or that I should plan something this weekend (even though I haven't been at home for two weekends, I was supposed to be at camp this weekend, and she knows I'll be spending all day on sociology) I'm going to flip. my. shit.

I texted Kayla who was at the funeral but she's at her dads, Jamie doesn't really care. I think he's got his own problems.

I don't know, all this is bringing up stuff I never dealt with with my mom. Like everyone is there for Brittany, and no one was or is there for me. I need to get my act together, be less condescending, quieter, realize I don't ALWAYS have to say something, more generous, and mind peoples privacy.

I have to get used to the idea that people just don't like me as much as I'd like to think. Which I should know, because I've known that all my life.

Alice