The Sea Revisited

Well then, aren't I the neglectful Nancy? Miss me? I don't give a shit.

The funeral for my uncle was about like all the other's I've been to save for the stretch SUV prom fuckmobile limo complete with a full bar and lava lamps that took the family to the cemetary where Uncle Richard's ashes were to be scattered on the family plots. I had no idea my great-grandfather was a high ranking freemason. At least that's what was on his marker. I didn't know my great-granny's first name was Bertha. I didn't know that side of my family was Apissco palien. Wierd religion. The service reminded me of some sort of masonic ritual. Masons again! We're through the looking glass, people!

While I stayed in Cocoa Beach, the land of my birth, I spent a lot of time drinking on my grandpa's pier. I forgot how nice it is to be near the ocean. I spent six years, all of it sea time, in the Navy. I completely took for granted how pleasant it is to be at sea and living in a maritime environment. I can't believe I keep coming back to Tulsa time and again.
The vortex of anguish.