Thoughts on the ride home...........So at the close of the day as the journey draws to an end, the question remains 'just how does one allow themself to lose touch when connections are so crucial to the human condition?' In all the celebration and pleasantries of the return to ones own lost family, is there the slightest flash of anger, of resentment for all that was missed, all that was left behind? In between all the 'ive missed you, ive loved you all these years, a sight for sore eyes, ive thought of you often' is there the hurt of abandonment, of one 'choosing' busyness over the effort of connection? And late in the evening as a stack of laminated wake cards is pulled out of a drawer, shocking in the sheer size of the pile, perhaps as many as 100 or more, of all the family members who have passed over in the 30 years that have elapsed, this cousin, that grandfather, that child and we sit around a beaten beer can strewn kitchen table weathered by all the years of tragedies, drinking cold ones while the prodigal son expresses condolences for those who he has memories of and those he never even knew existed, my sister turns to me and whispers about the absurdity of it all. And I agree. And now we head on back down the New York State Thruway, knowing that sometime in the future the phone will ring and there will be funerals to attend and we will carry on the family business of comforting the living and burying our dead. And I will hope that one old man found the contrition and absolution and the comfort of acceptance he was after, hoping he will stay in touch now. Family is more than photographs and memories, it is hearts and souls and hands reaching out to connect. Hold on tight people. Dont let go. So important. So damn important.