My plans for the month of May have changed dramatically. What they were matters little now. The change has been dramatic enough that I am making entirely new plans.
On Saturday, I bought a plane ticket to Texas. On Sunday, my grandfather passed. On Monday, I flew to Texas, was delayed, and had to spend the evening in the DFW Metro. On Tuesday, I drove in to East Texas for the visitation. On Wednesday, the funeral. On Thursday, more time with family. Today and tomorrow, I drive to DFW and back to drop off my brother and my wife.
Things are not all bad. I had not planned on being able to spend such time with my extended family, nor had I planned on seeing Bernie at its Carthage premier. Both of these are excellent things amidst grief and change. I hope to do more, especially once the pace of the past few days slows. Such interludes are life—rather than its abrogation.
On Wednesday, I will return to DFW for the last time in the near future to stay with a friend. On Thursday before sunrise, I will return to Montana and the unfinished projects and the newly open trails that I had before me when I left. Until then, I am looking forward to the meantime.