I'm a little drained right now. I've just returned from the funeral of my great-uncle Clare "Sonny" Ashton. In my family, great aunts and uncles, second cousins, we all keep up with each other. I traveled frequently with my grandparents to Sonny and Sue's (my grandpa's youngest sister) small hold black Angus farm and spent the day fishing, eating steak, and sitting on the back deck chatting. Hummingbirds flocked to his feeders by the 20's and Eastern bluebirds perched in the trees singing songs. It was a lovely, peaceful place.
Sonny was a great big man with an even bigger heart. He had a belly laugh that made you smile and was rotten to the core. His smile was bright, his compassion filled a room. He gave great hugs - you'd get lost in uncle Sonny. He didn't like to fish, but he would take me on hayrides around his property to dry creek beds to look for arrow heads and fossils and just to give me a thrill when we hit a big bump.
The funeral was nice. It was a blur. The pastor said something about how time does not heal all wounds because there will always be something to remind us of those that we love who have left us. Which opened the floodgates about my grandparents. I've said it before, but I Miss my grandparents. Very, very much.
Sonny had lived a full life, a wonderful life. He was my friend, a part of life with my grandparents. I will miss him and most likely cry more tears. But I will be joyful because my Great uncle, the man of the fullest heart and generous spirit, has finally gone home.