Friday morning I made the trip back to Yuma, with two of my cousins, for my brother's memorial. It has been in some ways a long two weeks and in others the shortest two of my life.
His memorial was held Friday night at the church my parents attend and then another at his local AA meeting hall.
One of my aunt's put together a beautiful slide show of his life from beginning to end and the alter was decorated with things that he loved...a Bible, his big book, his purple glasses, and a statue of budha. There was even a Native American drumming ceremony by one of his friends who owns a sweat lodge.
Saturday's memorial was spent listening to all his AA buddies telling Cloyce stories. Everyone that spoke had the same experience...Cloyce found them somewhere strung out on drugs or alcohol and hauled them off to their first AA meeting where they've been ever since. He made it his mission in life no matter where he was.
Saturday afternoon a group of his buddies made the long trek up the side of one of his favorite mountains to scatter 1/2 his ashes. My cousin Shelly took the other 1/2 back to Alaska where he lived for a few years. It was there he was most at peace in the world.
His 44 years of life were filled with so much heartache, misunderstanding, but also a lot of joy.
I pray that his soul is finally at rest.