Willamette Valley

We went to the memorial for my cousin after all. I had been dreading it so much. A cousin I grew up with and loved, a wonderful person, but who lived a very conservative, religious life. I didn’t think I could handle any right-wing gloating or see any maga hats - and I didn’t. I think we pulled it off just exactly right somehow. We arrived a little late to the 3 pm service, to a packed church, and left within 15 minutes after. I didn’t hear a single one of the words I dreaded. It was good; I even told a funny childhood story about her. Her four sons, husband, and brother were warm and loving; it was good to see them. We got out of there and drove through the beautiful Willamette Valley to the cemetery just south of Monmouth where my parents and a sister are buried, arriving just before dark. Then we plugged our car into a charging station near a BurgerKing, and ate alongside a room of happy, noisy teens, while waiting for our car . The drive home was easy and so was sleep that night. Extras of the church and the cemetery.