Normally, I write about food, wine and travel, but not this time. This time, I feel compelled to write about the trip I took to bury my aunt who died suddenly three weeks ago.
I received a text from my oldest sister that said "I need you to call me." I knew someone was dead, but I didn't know who. I called her immediately and she shared the unfortunate news of my aunt's untimely passing early on a Tuesday morning. Reeling from the news, my thoughts turned to my cousin Ben and cried even harder thinking of how he was going to deal with this. As my aunt's only child, she and Ben had always been extremely close and in later years he had become her caretaker, checking in on her from afar. I knew he was going to be devastated from her sudden loss, especially since they had just been in Las Vegas celebrating her 64th birthday days before she died. I called him and couldn't get him so I just left a weepy message on his voicemail saying that I loved him and was so sorry. That night I had planned to see friends who were in town during the Craft Brewer's Conference in Portland. I couldn't muster the energy to be with friends, so my husband suggested we go to dinner at the Woodsman Tavern that evening to make me feel better. He knew that this was the only thing that might help me feel better since after dining there last summer after we moved to town I proudly proclaimed the Woodsman to be my happy place. The menu is small and simple, serving expertly executed American classics like deviled eggs, fried chicken served in a bucket, and a riff on a Big Mac cheeseburger that will haunt your dreams. During that first visit we devoured our cheeseburgers and perfect fries served with Sriracha and mayonnaise and drank down bourbon, all the while old school country music played in the dining room.
It had been years since I had been to Knoxville and unfortunately the time before was for my Nana's funeral, my mom's Mom. I booked my ticket as soon as I could for my journey to Tennessee. I wanted and needed to be with my family during this time of grief. I left Portland Thursday and got into Knoxville airport at midnight. My sister and brother-in-law were waiting to pick me up at the small airport to then head on to the hotel we were staying at in Oak Ridge together. I couldn't sleep when I got into to the hotel even though I was exhausted from the travel and a little buzzed from the alcohol I had consumed on the plane to try to numb the pain I was feeling. I felt guilty about missing the family reunion last July. We hadn't missed it in years and missed it this time to make the move to Oregon. Each July my dad's side of the family gets together to share a meal at my grandmother's house in Greeneville, Tennessee or picnic at Horse Creek Park down the road. This tradition has been going on for years now, and really has become the only time everyone can commit to seeing each other. The periods of time in between seeing family on my dad's side seems to have gotten longer and longer as the years have gone on, each time making it a little more difficult to talk with people you share the same blood with.
I've always loved my aunt Kay and I've always loved Ben, even though we didn't get to see each other that often growing up. I hadn't seen him in years and finally got to see him Friday night at the funeral home. We embraced and after we let go, he introduced me to his new partner Jonathan. I am glad I finally got to meet this new guy that makes him so happy and it comforted me to know that he has someone that will help him get through the most difficult time of his life. He's so unbelievably strong and put together that he was able to eulogize his mom during the service that evening. That night Kay's former coworkers provided a meal for us from one of her favorite spots in Knoxville: Calhoun's Barbecue. We sat in the break room of EdFinancial services eating barbecue and Ben commenting on whenever he would ask Kay where she wanted to go she would always just want to get takeout from Calhoun's. After dinner, we met at Outback Steakhouse in Oak Ridge for beers and fellowship with my other cousins, Ben too exhausted to join us. The burial was Saturday at Oak Ridge Memorial Park at 11:00 am. It was sunny and warm that day. All of the immediate family were in attendance for the burial. We greeted each other without hugs, all of us quiet and solemn. It seemed more real than the evening before at the funeral home, even seeing her lying there in the open casket. We all huddled in around the burial tent, most choosing to stand and no one moving to sit in the chairs closest to casket. The preacher had us bow our heads to pray, trying to speak loud enough for everyone to hear over the passing highway traffic. Afterwards, I hugged Ben tight not wanting to let go, letting him sob into my shoulder. How will he move on from this? That evening my sisters, brother-in-law, and I met at Kay's favorite watering hole to toast her life. She would have liked that. Ben joined us later for one more drink at the Copper Cellar, leaving a weary Jonathan behind at Kay's condo to briefly catch up with us before we all went our separate ways again.
I know it's cliche to say this, but I'm going to say it anyway: hold the ones you love dear, and don't take it for granted that you'll get to see them soon. You may not. Tell them you love them and forgive them for mistakes or things they've said. I didn't get to say goodbye to my aunt because I thought I would see her again. I left not knowing the next time I would see my family again but in my heart I hoped it would be soon.
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