Current location:	work
Current mood:	accomplished
Entry tags:	atlanta, death, father, funeral, gary, hobart, indiana, johnson city, stepbrother, stepmother, stepsister

A Death and Adventure
Rest in Peace

Eugena Jordan-Duszynski

March 26, 1953 - June 29, 2009

I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye.


She was my stepmother. I had to go to her funeral. So here's the story ...


This is going to be one hell of a blog entry. I've got a lot to go over on what happened to me on my journey to Indiana, while I was there, and on the way back.

Flying to Chicago

Well, off to an unlucky start, my flight was canceled. They automatically re-booked me for the next available flight. This sucked because by the time I got to Chicago, the wake for my stepmother would be over. Well, I was mainly going for the funeral, so it wasn't the end of the world.

I made the unwise decision of wearing my Tripp pants. They're black, baggy pants that have several chains on them. Several chains that are made of METAL. This means walking through the detectors wasn't going to be an easy task. Since they couldn't make me take off my pants, they had to search me. Luckily, this wasn't incredibly embarrassing because I was the only one going through security at the time. I was patted down everywhere, very thoroughly. Even the bra area around my breasts had to be pressed down upon and my a$$ had to be felt as well. It was a woman searching me though, so it wasn't terrible, just embarrassing. At one point, the woman had to feel around my knees - a place I'm very ticklish - and no matter how much I resisted, I couldn't help but laugh. I apologized and explained I was ticklish. The security officer just chuckled and apologized for tickling me.

I had to switch planes in Atlanta, Georgia. Yes, that is farther south than Tennessee. Why I had to change planes there, I have no idea. It doesn't make sense to me but that's the way airlines are, I guess. Anyway, I freaked out a little on the plane to Atlanta. It was small. It had poor air conditioning. I was pressed in tight against the man sitting next to me. I had barely any leg room. There was lots of turbulence. I closed my eyes tight and took deep breaths to ease my anxiety. Luckily, doing that, I slowly claimed down and kept myself from freaking out outside of my mind. That would've been embarrassing had I not.

The trip from the Tri-Cities Airport to Atlanta's airport was only about 45 minutes, but we'd been given about a hour. Although we arrived early, a plane was at our gate so we had to sit on the plane until it moved anyway.

I had about 40 minutes to figure out where I needed to be for my next departure. If you've never been to Atlanta's airport, that's good, because that place is insanely huge. There are about five areas, each area has over a dozen gates for arrivals and departures. Each area is so far away from the other that most people take the underground train to get from place to place. Yep, it's pretty damn big.

I made it about 15 minutes before my plane departed. Just enough time to get through and onto the plane. This second plane was much nicer. It had such a good air conditioner that I eventually turned it off because I started to get cold. The seats were not so close together and there was enough leg room. The lady that sat next to me gave me the window seat because she didn't want it (if you don't pick a seat, I'm pretty sure they randomly assign you one, because I didn't pick a seat either). We were served a full meal on the way to Chicago. It was so good too. I honestly do not know why people would complain about airline food (someone said it could be that other airlines have crappy food). Everything was delicious. There was a turkey sub, with some seasoning that I didn't recognize, but was very good. Also, a bowl of very sweet fruit: a strawberry, a small bundle of grapes, and a large slice of pineapple. Snack foods: chips and a brownie. To top it off, a nice and cold beverage of choice (among what they had to offer). The lady next to me offered me her chips and brownie because she didn't want them. I thought, OH HELL YEAH! Overall, that plane was much nicer. It had a very small amount of turbulence as well.


Arriving in Chicago

I could see the big city from up high. It was awesome. I could see the Sears Tower at one end, among all the other tall buildings and behind the vast body of water known as Lake Michigan. What a sight to behold.

I arrived at the Midway Airport, a ways away from the big buildings of the Windy City of Chicago. Although I believe Chicago is larger than Atlanta, the Midway Airport is only a fraction of how big Atlanta's was. Then again, Chicago has multiple airports, and I have no idea how many Atlanta has. I entered the airport off of the plane to find an extremely large amount of people waiting at that particular gate. I pushed my way through the crowd to find a pay phone. I call my boyfriend to let him know I got there safely. >.< I shouldn't have, because that was the last of my minutes on the phone card I'd bought. Pay phones suck up a lot of minutes. Now I had no way to call my mother. I couldn't call her until I reached Indiana then because I couldn't call her on a pay phone due to long distance.

I wasn't familiar with the airport so I had to look around a while to find where ground transportation was. I found it just in time to get on a bus that was heading to North West Indiana. I was to go to the town of Highland (the first town you enter from the expressway going into Indiana from Chicago, Illinois). My mother would pick me up there.


Seeing North West Indiana Again

When I arrived in Highland, IN, I was expecting to go searching for a pay phone but instead I found my mother already waiting there. She saw me spot her through the bus window and waved. She'd been waiting there for a while, figuring I'd be arriving soon enough. We had no idea how long the bus would take so she'd guessed. Better to be early than late, I guess.

Exhausted, I was happy to sit in her car once again. My grandmother was in the backseat. I told them of my plane and airport experiences thus far.

My mother sped her way over the funeral home. The wake was over, but my father and some others were still there. It had been over for a half hour when I arrived there. My father, Eugene (Gena's son), Trish (Eugene's wife), Julie (Gena's daughter), Julie's boyfriend (whose name I can't remember at the moment), and Eugene & Trish's two daughters were all waiting outside at the front of the building. I apologized for looking so informal. I was wearing a very casual long sleeve shirt and my chain-filled Tripp pants. No one seemed to care. Everyone had sad looks on their faces, which was to be expected. However, my dad seemed, at least, happy to see that I'd made it. We all talked for a little while before heading in our separate ways. I'd see them all again at the funeral the next day.

On the way to my mother and grandmother's house, we stopped at a store and my mother bought me a few things to eat / drink while I stayed with her.

That night, my mom and I cooked a frozen pizza, and watched a movie. My mom's movies are very ... well, not my taste. I settled with Legally Blonde. It has moments of funny in it and it was a better choice than some of the others she had. I went to bed early and slept in my mother's bed while my mother took the couch. The funeral was to begin at 10:00 a.m. the next morning.


The Funeral

We arrived at the funeral home once again. A line of cars were already in line and bright orange stickers that read "FUNERAL" were being placed on the windshields. My mother parked her car in line with them and we placed the sticker in our window as well.

We'd gotten there about 15 minutes before it began. I walked through a crowd of people who were smoking and talking. Some of their faces I recognized from a decade ago, some I did not.

My mother, grandmother, and I sat in the first row of regular chairs that were placed behind a row of arm chairs that were designated especially for those who were closest to Gena. In the row of arm chairs sat my father, Eugene, Trish, Julie, Gena's first husband (and Eugene and Julie's father), and Gena's stepmother.

Soon the funeral service began. Gena's body laid in the casket at the front of the room. Flowers surrounded her. She looked so peaceful, as if she were just sleeping there. It was a sad sight to see. The minister walked up the podium and began his service. He talked a lot about Jesus. Although, some of the things he said annoyed me, I was in no position to complain. Gena was Christian, after all. Most of the people in the room were probably Christian as well. It wasn't my funeral.

[I might not have these next parts in order, but I guess it isn't too important if I make a mistake. I'm just recalling who spoke next.]

Eugene then approached the podium. He gave a deep, heartfelt speech. He called death a miracle, one no one should have to experience. He spoke of many things, some of which certain people may not understand. His words moved me greatly and tears filled my eyes.

Julie also spoke at the podium. She talked of how Gena wanted nothing more in life than to be a mother. She talked of how Gena was a great mother to her and Eugene. She was happy that her mother got to see Eugene's grandchildren, but regretted her mother not seeing her grandchildren.

Trish spoke at the podium. She spoke of how much she loved Gena. She was the only one to make a humorous remark. She spoke of how Gena loved to Trish's children in stretch pants, rather than jeans. I'm going to try to quote her as well as I can remember, "Some times we had to agree to disagree. We disagreed on those godforsaken stretch pants. I like jeans. Gena would argue 'Go ahead and let them run around like hillbillies!' and sure enough when they'd come home they'd be wearing stretch pants." This made a few people chuckle, but for some, even that wasn't funny at the moment.

A relative I didn't recognize (and I failed to know her name) approached the podium. I honestly can't remember much of what she said. >.<

A little girl (who I later learned was named Abby and a cousin of mine by marriage) approached the podium. She began to say something but after about two sentences the poor girl couldn't stop crying. Eugene said to her, "Take your time, sweetie." However, the poor girl (probably) got embarrassed and fled to her seat.

After everyone else said what they had to say, the minister got back up and said his final words of the service. After that, it was time for everyone to say their final farewells to Gena at the casket. Row by row, people went up to say their goodbyes. Although I do not believe in heaven or God, I stopped at her casket and thought to myself, "I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye to you. I'm so very sorry." It made me feel extremely sad to see her motionless body up close. She had short, gray hair. Up until then, all of my memories of her where of when she had shoulder length, blonde hair. The chemotherapy had made her go bald but before she died I expect some had started to grow back and she was unable to dye it blonde.

After everyone came out of the funeral home, I found my father. I hugged him and made sure he was okay. We talked for a short while before I headed to the car to join my mother and grandmother.

In a long string of cars, we made our way to the cemetery. Everyone gathered around Gena's burial place. Many people's faces were puffy and red from tears.

While waiting for everyone to arrive, my grandmother started to talk to some other old woman about me and who I was. A guy who looked a little older then me approached me. "That would mean you're my cousin," he said and extended his hand for me to shake. At first, I didn't recognize him, but after he walked away it hit me. It was someone I'd played with long ago, when I was a little girl. His nickname was Boo-Boo. I have no idea where that nickname came from, but I knew it was him. Later on, someone told me he goes by his birth name now, which is Clint.

Another person approached me, who turned out to be my Uncle Ronny's wife. She was disappointed to find that I didn't remember her. Her face looked vaguely familiar, but as for memories, I have none of her. She talked to my mother for a while.

Soon, final words were spoken about Gena and she was prepared to be lowered into the ground. She was to be buried next to her parents. Everyone went back to their cars and headed for another place where we'd all meet.

I'm not exactly sure who paid for it, but I expect who ever paid for the funeral was paying for the diner. It was at a restaurant named Teibel's. It's a very fancy restaurant that I actually dislike quite a bit. It has high prices for mediocre food. Upon entering the restaurant, another person recognized me. I'd recognized her at the funeral. She was someone who'd babysat me before (why, I don't know). She was related to Gena, but I can't remember exactly how. She said what many others had said before, "I haven't seen you since you were a little girl!" She was with the same man she was back when she babysat me. Her boyfriend then is now her husband, whom have two daughters together.

I sat next to my father. As awkward as it was, my mother and grandmother sat with us. My mother and grandmother hadn't really spoken to my father since ... well, stuff happened a decade ago. My father looked so sad. He barely spoke. I understood why completely, of course. I was determined to get him to crack a smile. I said anything I could think of that was funny relating to what we were doing. With success, I made him smile a few times. It turns out, we both thoroughly enjoy mashed potatoes and other potato based foods. My Uncle Ronny and his wife sat next to us. Uncle Ronny is the only one amongst my father's four brothers who actually looks quite a bit like him. I told Uncle Ronny this and he smiled. He jokingly replied with, "Jee, thanks. What did I ever do to you?" He was, of course, insulting my father's looks compared to his own.

After leaving Teibel's, my mother took my grandmother and me to Dairy Queen for desert. We parked near the lake of Cedar Lake and watched boats go by. My mother told me she was sad that we weren't as close as Gena and her family obviously was. This made me feel awkward and sad too.


Confessions

Later on that night, my mother and I got hungry and instead of cooking, we went out to eat. She took me to a place I wasn't thrilled about going to. It was the Texas Steakhouse. Ick, I hate steak. Anyway, I ordered Texas cheese fries and was happy.

My mother got to talking about death. She was obviously effected by the funeral she'd witnessed that day. She talked of how she sometimes wondered if a god really existed because there were so many things in the world she didn't understand. ...

This was the perfect moment. My mother had earlier expressed how she felt about our closeness and how she wished we were closer. She gave me the perfect opportunity to confess one of the two things I'd always wanted to tell her.

"Mom, how would you feel about someone not believing in God or heaven or anything like that?" I asked.

"I don't know. I guess I wouldn't care. I mean, I just said I'm doubting things myself," she said.

"So it wouldn't bother you at all if someone you knew didn't believe in God?" I asked firmly.

"Well, it isn't like I'd approve of it, really. But then again, I wouldn't dislike the person. It's their choice on the subject," she said, she sounded uncertain of what she was saying.

"Well, Mom, you wanted us to be closer so I'm going to tell you something. ... I don't believe in God. I don't believe in heaven or hell or any of that stuff. I haven't believed in that stuff since I was about 13 or so," I blurted out quickly.

My mother's eyebrows lifted to an angle of surprise and her jaw dropped slightly.

For a moment she didn't say anything. What felt like a thousand years of silence was probably only about 5 second or so.

"Alright," she said simply.

0.0 <<< This is how I looked after that response.

"You don't care? Not even a little bit? You don't think I'm evil or weird or crazy?" I asked.

"No ... that's not evil or crazy. It's your choice. I mean, I guess I'm having my doubts, but I wouldn't just completely not believe in it. I'd be afraid of being wrong," she said. (notice how she didn't say it wasn't weird)

"You have no idea how afraid I've been of telling you this and ... I can't believe you're being this calm about it!" I shouted, actually feeling a mixture of relief and annoyance.

"Well, I can't make you believe in something! It's alright, I said!" she shouted back.

I sat there in disbelief that she was the same person I'd known for years to be narrow-minded. She finished her steak and we left.

After getting in the car, I began another confession.

"I have something else I want to tell you," I said, preparing for it, "and I know you're not going to like this one."

"Well, you don't have to tell me stuff if you don't want to. I said I wanted us to be close, but I only want you to tell me stuff if you want to," she said.

"Well, I just know that you've disliked this stuff for sure. You've said stuff out loud that are obvious remarks against it. ... Well, it isn't a choice by any means what so ever, but I'm bisexual," I said, feeling a great amount of fear welling up inside me.

Another thousand years (about 5 seconds) worth of silence passed.

"Uh ... well, I'm not against gay people. I had a lesbian friend once," she said.

"WHAT?! But you didn't like that I was friends with Billy! You always make comments about gay people when they're on TV. You talk about how gross they are!" I shouted.

"Well, that was when you were younger. I just ... I guess I just ..." she was having a hard time explaining herself.

"It isn't a choice so if you thought I'd "turn gay" or whatever, that's so not possible," I argued.

"I just didn't want you to hang out with the wrong kind of people. Some gay people do a lot of drugs and have a lot of sex. What if Billy did those things? I didn't know! And it is gross to see two guys or two girls kiss or have sex on TV. I don't want to see it but I'm not exactly against it! And as for you being bisexual, I don't give a damn because you're an adult now and you don't do any bad things! And you're with a guy right now anyway!" she explained.

"So you wouldn't be okay with it if I were with a woman instead?!" I demanded an answer.

"No! No ... I just want grandkids, but you won't give them to me anyway!" she said angrily.

"Mom, you are so ... confusing. You've gave off this HUGE impression that you hate gay people and now you're telling me that you don't. Is it just because you won't allow yourself to hate me because I'm your kid?" I said, doubtingly.

"No, I mean it. I mean all of it. It's okay that you're bisexual. But you're right, I could never hate you. I'll love you until the day you die!" she said.

... After all that, we had a pleasant ride home and talked about "normal" things.


Hanging out with my dad and Eugene's family

The next day I got to hang out with Dad. He picked me up in front of Lake Central High School in St. John, IN. It wasn't too far from where my mother lived. My mother and him meet half way because she doesn't remember how to get to his place and Dad has a hard time figuring out how to get to her place.

He was taking me to Eugene and Trish's house. I was nervous. I'd seen Eugene and Trish the first day in Indiana and then again at the funeral, but I'd never really talked to them a lot.

They live in a town in Illinois, much farther south than Chicago. Upon entering the house, there was Eugene. He was in, what were probably, his pajamas while lazily reclined back on the couch. "Oh, hi! Go ahead, have a seat!" he said to me and Dad. Their living room had many blankets on the floor from the sleepover they'd had the night before. Trish came in and apologized for the mess. Little does she know that I actually prefer messy places because they make me feel more comfortable. I made the joke, "Oh, I'm terribly offended." I sat down in the closest chair.

Four girls ran into the room next. Two were Trish and Eugene's daughters named Tori and Elizabeth and the other two were girls I'd seen at the funeral. They were the daughters of the woman who'd once babysat me (that I met at Teibel's). They were all playing together. I expect that they were playing some sort of dress up game because every once in a while they'd come into the living room with a different outfit on. I think their ages ranged from 5 - 7.

A little bit after my dad and I had arrived, Gena's former husband (and Eugene's father) arrived. I can't remember his damn name. >.<

Everyone discussed what they wanted to eat. Our original choice was Chinese food, but the restaurant they called for it was closed. So we had Mexican food instead. They ordered from a restaurant I'd never heard of. I looked at the menu they had for it. I didn't recognize a lot of things. I just ordered nachos, minus the guacamole and jalapeno peppers. My dad and Eugene ordered these huge things. They looked like extremely large tacos, but they had a bunch of stuff all over them. They were packed with meat and stuff. They didn't look bad, but they were probably spicy. I can't remember what Trish or Eugene's dad had. While we were eating, the girls would occasionally come in to say something. I overheard one of the little girls complain that the food she had wasn't like her mother's. It was the older of the two girls they were having over. Both girls were Hispanic but I hadn't guessed their nationality. They turned out to be half Mexican and the girl said that her mother's food was better than the restaurants. Odd thing was that their father was the one who was obviously Mexican while their mother was white. I guess white women can cook Mexican dishes just the same.

After we all ate, we watched a Western movie called Appaloosa which starred Viggo Mortensen. He's one of the hottest old actors out there, seriously. ... >.> Anyway, it was pretty good. It was historical fiction, after all.

Close to the end of the movie, we had desert. There was a whole damn box of cheesecake there. 0.0 <<< That's what I looked like when Eugene had me pull the box of cheesecake out of their frig. Everyone who knows me knows that cheesecake is my favorite desert. A box of cheesecake, individual slices that had different flavors on the cheesecake. I took a raspberry and a strawberry flavored slice. Sooooo good. >.<

After we finished the movie, it was pretty much time to go.

Eugene and Trish thanked me for coming over. Hell, I felt like thanking them a bunch of times over for buying me food then gracing me with the pleasure of consuming cheesecake.

Dad took me to my mother's house and then made his way to drop off the two girls, that were staying with Eugene and Trish, back to their place.


The 4th of July

I woke up at 10:30 a.m. to pack my things and get ready for the holiday event. I was going to spend the night at my dad's house so that he could drive me to the airport the next morning. I made sure I had everything I came with, and took some extra things my mother gave me. My backpack was very full now, quite a bit bigger than when I arrived.

My father met us at a gas station. I actually didn't recognize what town we were in. I hadn't paid attention. My mother hugged me goodbye and said she'd try to get enough money for me to come visit her again in August (in between my summer semester and the fall semester). She reminded me to call her whenever I got home the next day to see that I got home from the flight okay.

I was taken to my father's house (whom lives in Gary, Indiana - yes, that's where Michael Jackson is from). It was like I remembered the first time I'd ever been there. It hadn't really changed in two years. Then again, I wasn't there for too long the first time I'd been there. It was a decent sized house. It was bigger than my mother's. I sat on the couch; it was very comfortable. Julie was getting ready in the other room. It didn't take long before she came out. She was wearing a Chicago Cubs t-shirt. Ick, I hate sports. ... Anyway, she looked extremely pretty. Her hair was flared out, dyed red with what looked like blonde highlights. Her makeup was flawless. Then again, Julie had gone to school to learn how to do makeup professionally, not just for beauty, but for special effects like they'd use in movies. I wish I had the patience to do my makeup that damn good.

Julie and I did most of the talking in my father's van. We talked about what I was doing in college. We talked about how the government is stupid for making people wait until they're 24 years old before they can use their own information to go to school. It is illogical. There's plenty of people out there who do not receive any help from their parents what so ever once they move out at 18. What the hell?

We were going to Al's house (whom lived in Hobart, Indiana). Albert is Gena's brother. He has four daughters: Morgan (20), Brittany (18), Taylor (12), and Abby (10). I think those ages are right, anyway. He divorced their mother sometime ago and has re-married since then. His present wife had a daughter when they married whose name I can't remember and age I don't know. She looks about 15 or something though. A house full of women ... I wonder how Al survives. :P

I used to play with Morgan and Brittany when I was younger. I remember dancing to awful songs like "Macarina" and "Come On Ride the Train" with them. >.< I also remember watching Ace Ventura - When Nature Calls with them. Why were we allowed to watch that movie? Seriously, it has way too many inappropriate things in it! I hadn't seen them in about a decade though. I was nervous to enter their house.

The first girl I saw when I entered was Abby. She greeted me. ... How'd she know my name already? Then she asked, "You used to play with my sister Morgan, right?" I nodded with, "Uh huh." She smiled at me then walked over someone else to talk to them. Al entered the living room and asked if I remembered him. I did, but only vaguely. For ten years having past since the last time I saw him, he didn't really look too different. Hell, he didn't even look old at all. Weird.

Over the course of a half hour, the house filled with people. I was annoyed by this because I hate big crowds of people. Eugene, Trish, and their daughters had come. Many people I'd seen at Gena's funeral had come. After sitting there and talking with anyone who was around, Al noticed that I hadn't eaten anything and informed me that there was plenty of food in the kitchen. I was too nervous to be hungry, but I didn't want to be rude so I got up and went into the kitchen. There was plenty of food. Every kitchen counter was overflowing with food. I decided to have a plate of food. I took two different types of dips for chips. One was made by Trish and was nothing like I'd ever tasted before. It was delicious. The other was another type of dip but tasted great too. I had another plate, they were so good. Later on, I had macaroni salad. It was pretty good.

While I was eating, I saw Morgan. She looked so different than how I'd imagine her to be. She dressed uniquely though, which I liked. She had a few piercings. Her hair was long, blonde, and beautiful with loose curls. Something I hadn't expected at all was that she had a son. I believe people were calling him Oswall. He looked maybe about a year old or maybe a little over that. I couldn't imagine being a mother so young. Then again, a cousin of mine had a kid before she was even out of high school and is doing just fine now. If their okay with it, so am I, I guess. She sported an attitude as though she'd not take any crap from anyone, ever. It was intimidating.

The sky was full of clouds. The air was damp but neither cold or hot. I didn't mind the weather being this way, but many people had complained about it all day. They wanted the sun to shine bright upon their 4th of July. I didn't; I hadn't brought any sunblock. I stepped outside to find many of the children at the party swimming in the pool out back. They played a game in which a person would get on another person's shoulders then try to push someone else off doing the same thing. Some of them tried to do flips in the water. Occasionally they'd get out and take a dive or do a cannon ball. Trish had her camera with her, she was taking pictures of the kids doing these things. Eventually Eugene got in with them and demanded a contest. He'd tell the kids what type of dive or cannon ball to do and then he'd give them a score based on how they did. It was funny. He just got in and started giving directs to them. Eugene is a very charismatic man.

Trish took a picture of my father and me together with her camera and then mine. Then Dad tried his best to take a picture of Trish, Julie, and me on a swing. He for some reason kept messing up on Trish's camera. Mine was pretty simple to take pictures with. Trish, Julie, and me talked for a little while about random things. Julie told me of how her boyfriend was such a stereotypical Mexican guy. I didn't understand at first. She told me that in his room he had a poster of the movie Scarface, a picture of Jesus, and a poster of an Easy Rider girl - half naked on a motorcycle. I laughed a little. Then she told me about how he had two arms of tattoos - one with evil images and one with good images. One of the good images was Jesus again. Now, I can see why that'd be seemingly stereotypical of a Mexican guy, but he could be so much more of a stereotype, I think. Just as she was finished talking about him, he walked up to us. I noticed an Asian symbol tattoo on his arm. "What does that mean?" I asked. I believe he said "demon" then again, I'm not 100% sure on that. Julie made fun of it. "I hate those Asian symbols on people. How the hell do they know what it means? It could say anything. ..." she said, following with a bunch of inappropriately funny things that the symbol could possibly mean.

Soon all the boys (young and old ... well, not old, just older) were in the pool. They were being boys alright. They had a ball in there with them. The object of the game was to get ahold of the ball and touch it to the rim or past the rim of the pool for 5 seconds. I don't think there was any type of a score being kept though. I just know they were working themselves awfully hard trying to get it from each other. Eventually, they asked Julie's boyfriend to join them. He refused over and over again. Then someone said jokingly, "He's got too much Mexican pride to be in here with us." They were trying to use reverse psychology, I think. Someone then pointed out my half Mexican second cousin who was in the pool with them. Someone in the pool then replied, "Yeah, but he's got Duszynski blood in him!" This made me laugh a little. Eventually Julie's boyfriend was convinced to join the men in the pool.

Eventually I went back inside to retrieve food. There was now cake set out. Apparently it was someone's birthday somewhere in the house. I have no clue whose it was though. The cake had a decent amount of frosting on it. Of course, I had a lot because of that. haha. Dad was in there with me. He had a small piece and that was it for him. I guess he doesn't like sweets that much. We talked about random things here and there. Morgan came into the kitchen and had to chase after Oswall, who kept trying to go outside. Fireworks were starting soon, so I think that's why she was making sure he didn't go out there. The boy sure was determined. He tried again and again to go outside but with Morgan in his way, he failed miserably. She then tried to distract him with food. The boy was very stubborn. With a plate of sliced hot dog, even then he refused to settle down. Morgan had earlier mentioned that Brittany wasn't there because of her. I wasn't exactly sure what she meant and I never got to find out. Too bad, I was wanting to see Brittany too.

It was finally time for fireworks. They began them pre-maturely though, I think. The sun hadn't completely set when they started them. Oh well, they weren't my fireworks. I was standing on the deck, near the pool, watching them at first. Then Trish spotted me up there and asked if I'd like to join them. I didn't want to. There were a lot of people down there. However, I forced myself to go: 1) Because people were more than likely feeling awkward about me considering most hadn't ever met me or hadn't seen me in a decade so it would be a good idea to get socialized with them. 2) I might actually like socializing once I give it a chance. 3) I might as well have said yes because if I'd changed my mind I'd have had to go down there anyway so I might as well get it out of the way.

They brought out a huge wheel barrel of fireworks. Some were for younger children and some were for lighting up the sky. Trish asked if I wanted to hold a Roman Candle. She warned me that if it backfired she wouldn't be held responsible sine I accepted. I thought that was sort of funny, but I guess she just wanted to let me know. I accepted. Even if it did backfire, I held it in a way that the candle's end wasn't facing me directly, more that it was facing past me so that it would go behind me. I made sure no one was behind me while I did this. After that I watched all the smaller kids play with sparklers while the adults and older kids lit off big fireworks that made loud exploding noises or lit up the sky with pretty colors. I was staring up at the sky contently when Al asked me to come over and set one off. I was confused. Why me? I didn't mind doing this at all, but all the people that were already up there were perfectly capable of doing so. Did he think I felt left out? As I approached the circle where they were setting them off, Roger the 3rd (known as baby Roger, even though he now looks about 13 or so) asked who I was. "She's Richie's daughter," my cousin Roger (his father) told him. Baby Roger looked confused. "She's your cousin, dummy!" said another cousin of mine. "I'm your [i]second[/i] cousin," I said confidently and smiled. He looked like this >>> 0.0 "Why haven't I ever met you before?" he asked. "You have; you were just too young to remember," said his father. "It was a very long time ago," I added before lighting off the big firework and running away before it went off. I'd never used a standard lighter before. I'd always used the long ones for candles. Nonetheless, I got it lit just fine. Trish was laying on the ground with her camcorder trying to capture the fireworks in action.

After most of the fireworks were over, I joined my dad on the deck. Coincidentally, Baby Roger was up there with him. I asked "Why were you up here the whole time?" to my dad. "I can see the fireworks just fine from up here. That way I'm not having to look up so much. It hurts my neck," he said. "I guess I see what you mean," I replied. "Uncle Richie, is she going to live with you now?" Baby Roger asked my dad. Before he could answer, I said, "Haha, no. I live in Tennessee. I came up here for the funeral and to visit my mom and dad. I'll be going back tomorrow." It was about that time my dad complained about his legs hurting and went into the house. "So are you coming back ever?" Baby Roger asked me. He seemed unusually interested. "I plan to come back soon, yeah, but I won't be able to come until Christmas time if my mom doesn't have enough money in August," I said before joining my dad in the house.

I was tired too. Even though I hadn't done any physical kind of work, I was exhausted from socializing. Socializing always tires me out actually. That's what I get for being introverted. My dad said we could go to his house for the night whenever I wanted. I told him I wanted to say goodbye to people before we left. I went off to find Trish first since she's always difficult to find. Like I predicted, she was difficult to find. While I searched for her, I ran into Pam (my cousin Roger's wife) and she bid me a farewell. I ran into Julie who gave me a hug and said goodbye. She explained that even though she was coming home to my dad's house to sleep as well, it would be much, much later and that I'd probably be asleep by then. I found Trish, who had been socializing somewhere, and she hugged me and said something very sweet, "I know this sounds corny, but I have had such a good time with you, I really have. And I hope to see you again very soon." The last person I hugged goodbye was Eugene. I was afraid to hug him too tight because he looked wet from earlier, but he turned out not to be. He said something nice too, but I can't remember exactly what he said, but I'll try, "It has been a pleasure and you are more than welcome to see us again soon." Tylor, Abby, and Baby Roger waved while shouting, "BYE!!!" ... There was one person who asked what airport I was going to, but I honestly cannot remember who the hell it was. I just remember that after I told them I was going to Midway, they said, "Good, because O'Hare is a pain the ass!"

I was tired when I got to my dad's house, however, I didn't want spending time with him to end. I lied and told him I wasn't tired at all. He agreed to watch some TV with me. My father pretty much only watches sports or poker shows, aside from Western movies. I tried to find something that would sort of be a compromise but it just wasn't happening that night. Even though I wasn't in the mood to watch poker (especially since I'd prefer to play it MUCH more than watch it), I agreed happily to watching it and tried to get interested. After about a hour, my dad suggested we go to sleep since we both had to get up super early. I agreed fully since the sleepiness was starting to get to me. I slept on the couch, even though Julie had offered a bed. I honestly didn't care. The couch was very comfortable so I saw no reason to take the bed.


Going Home

I got up at 4:30 a.m. Yes, that's right, 4:30 a.m. My flight was at 7:00 a.m. I should be at the airport a hour early to make sure I get through security and check-in on time. It takes about 45 minutes to an hour to get to Chicago from north west Indiana. Do the math. We needed to leave at 5:00 a.m. This gave me a half hour to get ready. With a tap on my leg, my dad woke me up. Normally, any other time I'd have to wake up early like that, I'd moan and groan but considering it was extremely important that I get on my plane in time, I made no fuss about it. I simply got up with an agonizing headache and put my pillows where I found them. Then headed to the bathroom to change into my dress that I'd worn to the funeral. I didn't want to get searched again because of my chain decorated pants so I wore the dress. I brushed my hair and teeth. There wasn't much else to do so I was good to go. Then it was my dad's turn to get ready. He took about the same amount of time. Then we were off.

For it being about 5:00 a.m. outside, it was surprisingly daylight out. I was expecting darkness still. Dew covered every surface still, as the sun had not yet dried it up. Dad and I were both tired. Perhaps we're alike in this way, but neither of us spoke for a very long time. I hate talking when I'm tired. I hate music when I'm tired too. Dad didn't even think about putting the radio on. Fog was thick on the expressway. Signs were difficult to see until we came right up on them. Hopefully, Dad had better eyes than me.

When we got to the airport, he'd turned into the wrong place for unloading. He'd gone where buses and taxies go. He had to turn around and find where departures and arrivals go. He quickly found the gate for Delta Airlines. He gave me a hug and said he hoped to see me in August if everything went as planned.

Luckily, the line for Delta Airlines was extremely short. There were only two people in front of me when I got there. Security was extremely easy to get through. It took me a total of 15 minutes to get through that. I got to my departure area about 40 minutes early. That's good, I guess. It's MUCH better than being there two seconds before the plane took off.

Something extremely annoying happened whenever I got on the plane. I could barely fit my fat ass in the seat, then I couldn't even get my seat belt buckled. Seriously, the farthest the end would reach the other was about 3 or 4 inches away. It didn't matter how much I pushed down my stomach or sides. I was even willing to be in pain in order to get it buckled, but no matter how much I wiggled or adjusted myself, it wasn't going to happen. I swear, for how many damn obese people we have in the United States, they really should make bigger seats. The thing was, I saw a few people who were definitely fatter than me get on the plane so I have no clue how they handled it. I suppose they did just as I did, which was to not say a damn thing about it and ignore the stewardesses when they told us to buckle them. It was a two hour flight. It was annoying because the seat I was in was so uncomfortable I couldn't even rest enough to get some sleep.

Being back in the Atlanta airport again was a bit easier the second time around since I knew how the place worked. I quickly found the underground train and got to lettered area I need to be in, then found which departure area I needed to be in. My head felt awful. Lack of sleep and rushing around an airport do not mix. While I waited until it was time to board the plane, a family was looking miserable near me. The wife came back to the husband to inform him that they could've been on a flight sooner and that the lady had failed to tell them that. The husband got furious and started shouting at the woman at the counter that was in charge of the area next to the one I was at. They bickered back and forth and soon the man backed down because security came and stood next to the woman. He proclaimed that he'd never use Delta Airlines again. Apparently, they'd been waiting there all day for a flight and the woman was supposed to have let them know when one was available. I'm pretty sure that woman isn't obligated to do that though.

My second plane was smaller than the other I'd previous been on, but the seats weren't as snug and I could get my seat belt fastened pretty easily. The plane was pretty empty. I'd say about half of the seats were unoccupied. Because of this, people were pretty much allowed to sit where ever they wanted rather than being pressed up against some stranger. I moved to another seat because I had been pressed up against a man who barely spoke English. It wasn't the fact that he couldn't speak English that bothered me, it was that he kept saying things to me and I felt bad not knowing what to say back to him. He was using English to say things, but his accent was so very thick that I honestly couldn't make out what he was trying to say. Hopefully I didn't hurt his feelings.

Our plane was going to leave on time when all of a sudden we stopped. The plane turned around and went away from the take-off area. What the hell? After a few minutes, the pilot actually came from the cockpit and told us that there was something wrong with the plane and that men were coming to work on it. ... Yeah, that made me feel great. I love being on broken planes. It makes me feel super at ease. (all of that is sarcasm, of course) We had to wait an hour before the plane could take off. I felt very uneasy. I was terrified at the thought that the plane could mess up again while in flight. The stewardess was nice enough to let me use her cellphone to call Joseph (who was taking Jon and Justin to come pick me up at the Tri-Cities airport).

Luckily, the flight went by quickly. It only took us 45 minutes to get there as opposed to the estimated hour. I sighed in relief to be back in Tennessee and to not be on a plane anymore. I called Joseph on a payphone and waited outside for them to arrive. I smiled big whenever I saw Joseph's car pull up with them inside. I rushed to the backseat and got in to hug my boyfriend. I was glad to be home again.