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Saturday, January 8 2005

A Morbid Entry

Vegas01 011.jpg (I couldn’t decide on a pic, so here’s one of a hotel)

Las Vegas was a (career wise) amazing experience. There’s so much forward movement that can and will happen over the next few months, and I wish I could share in the excitement of what I’ve been feeling over the past few weeks, but it’s more than kind of difficult right now.

It’s as if I’m not here, sitting on the floor in the airport waiting for my plane to first make it to the terminal and to then take me to New York. It’s as if I haven’t slept in weeks, when last night I got a full 8 hours of sleep. I feel like I’m high or drunk or something outside of a normal body experience, when the truth is I am stone cold sober.

His funeral is tomorrow at noon. I’ve realized I haven’t really dealt with his death. I realize that tonight, tonight and tomorrow I will have to. My father asked me to speak at the funeral, he said the family thought it would be a good idea if I could say a few words about my grandfather. I’ve never spoken at a funeral before, and I’m not one of those people who can control the ridiculous sobbing that overtakes some at these kind of events. I want to speak, I want to tell the world some of the things I know about my grandpa, but what if the words don’t come out?

My mother called this morning and said she was going to speak. She also said that two of my cousins were preparing something. While that’s all well and good, I feel like it’s my duty to say goodbye this way. After all, I didn’t get to see him again before he died. I didn’t get to hold his puffed up lymph-node free hand one more time before he went to sleep.

Is it okay if I sob uncontrollably while I’m saying a few words? Is it okay that I’m crying while I sit at the airport?

I didn’t really go out last night, my last night in Vegas. I went to see a not so good show that I probably shouldn’t say too many bad things about, and since the show didn’t hold my interest, I started to think of things that did. All I came back to was this speech. This remembrance of my grandfather that I need to deliver. The tears started to come and I realized I haven’t let myself mourn his death.

So now that I’m good and depressed, I am taking time to do that.

I don’t want to end this blog on a really sad note, so I’ll end on a Bon Jovi will be in my future sort of one. See, last night, T. and I thought we were running late to see this snoozefest, er, I mean show, and we decided we’d have to cut the line to make it on time. We found this innocent looking older man and T. said “please hug me like you know me. We need to cut you in line because we are going to be late to a show.” He was so cool about it, and really funny. Turns out, not only is he a Producer with the Today Show (and other shows), he was also at the Venetian having dinner with - drumroll please - Bon Jovi! Apparently, he’s a close, personal friend.

One degree of Kevin Bacon away from Bon Jovi. It was if we are meant to be…at the Venetian…together…at least last night.

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