Yesterday my family and I attended my father's and brother's joint funeral service and reception. It was beautiful in its simplicity and symbolism. They will be buried at a national cemetery, along with half of my mother's ashes (half are with my nephew's). The funeral was at the national cemetery. As my father served in the Air Force and my brother was career Navy, there were officers from both present. There was a small bugle band of retired elderly servicemen that played "Taps", about six soldiers that shot gunfire, as part of the ceremony, two soldiers each from the Air Force and Navy lowered then folded flags and then gave one to each me (my dad's) and my sister (our brother's). The gathering was invitation only. This prevented the presence of people that we would have otherwise been disturbed to see. The small reception afterwards was quite nice. I was lucky to have been seated opposite my favorite first cousins, and without their young children present.

We've made good progress with various tasks here. Some work will obviously need to continue after Hubby and I return to CZ, but the grunt work is scheduled to be handled by a contract work team we've hired. My sister initially had the unreasonable thought that she, her husband and adult son would do a lot of the work. Not only would it be exceedingly too much for the very best of us, but certainly so for them. They are not physically or sufficiently mentally well enough. Plus, it's not reasonable to expect people prone to hoarding to be able to clean up another person's hoard.

I joined my remaining blood paternal uncle and his wife for breakfast this morning. It was pleasant. They are in great shape and blessed with a very large extended family, thanks to the two good cousins I mentioned. Even my uncle acknowledged that when we said "goodbye" that it could possibly be for the last time. The only other blood uncle I have living (never had blood aunts) is my mother's brother. We never see him anymore. Years back, he up and moved to Maine without telling any of us. My sister tracked him down, but that didn't make him want to have anything to do with us. We all know that he fled feeling guilty for a greedy act. I will likely never see or talk to him ever again. It was his choice.

I want to go home. To Czech Republic.