KLF is a good friend, and a coworker down at Lexcorp. His mom was really sick with cystic fibrosis. She was a fighter, but finally she succumbed to a heart attack, probably brought on by the disease.
So I went to the funeral and the burial. I couldn't stay long to either affair since I had to go back to work. Dammit, it all felt so familiar: the funeral home, the cemetery, mourners in black, the candles, the crying. But my own experiences now feel really far away, like I didn't really live them, but rather watched them on a TV show or something. Time is merciless and unreleting. It pushes memories ever far back.
The one thing I hate about funerals is that I don't know what to say. I want to sound conforting, but I hate saying some clichéd phrase. However, if you want to get creative, you always sound weird. So this time I just gave everyone a big hug and said nothing.
To KLF and all his family, my condolences. May God give you the strength you need to overcome this tragedy. My thoughts are with you always.
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