Author: Jonathon

Today feels like Saturday, but not in a good way. Jon has the flu, as in the real flu not the stomach viruses that we all normally call the flu. Flu is a cough, fever, body aches, tiredness, and some other symptoms, but nothing like a stomach virus. Learn something new everyday; though we actually learned this yesterday.
It’s sleeting here and we’re supposed to get anywhere from seven to ten inches of snow and sleet today, so the schools are closed. Trinity is still asnooze in her bed upstairs. Jon is, too, because sleep is one of the things you can do to get better faster from this thing.
Darla is staying home today, part weather, and part that she’s been tapped for reading the page proofs of BLOOD NOIR. Jon and I did the last go around. Darla and I did the one before that. I’ve given her a list of things to mark so I can go back over them mostly research stuff to make sure I put it all in, and got it right. Page proofs are do this week in New York.
Weather is keeping everyone else home, too. Some have kids that are suddenly off school, and for the rest I’m just saying, stay home. It’s not worth it in this weather. Of course, the roads aren’t that bad right this second but it’s been sleeting off and on, and now the snow is starting to really come down. The wind has picked up and is driving it sideways, and all I can think is that the snow is drifting to the ground like a car drifting sideways. (Maybe cars really will become a hobby for me; I’m certainly thinking about them enough.)
I’m drinking the first cup of tea of the day. The dogs are huddled around my feet wondering why I haven’t fed them yet. It’s a week day and they know the routine. By seven they are usually fed, but like I said, it’s sort of the weekend schedule. So the puppies can wait until I’ve had a cuppa.
I’m having trouble letting go of my schedule as it falls to ruins around me, one of the downsides of being morbidly organized about work is that when the organization doesn’t go as planned it really bugs me. But I’ve still got Merry pages to do; I’m over two hundred pages in now. Yea!
I’m going to finish my tea and watch the snow come down. I’m about fifteen to twenty minutes away from supposedly being at my desk, but there’s no school today, and my hubby is sick, and no one else is here to tend the dogs. Soooo . . . I’ll drink my tea, feed the puppies, leave a note for the kiddo telling her to get cereal, and hopefully get to work by 8:30. It’s a goal.

It’s been awhile since I got to drive the Foose. Sunday was such a beautiful day that it just needed to be done. Besides, today the weather is nasty again, and even Charles says, driving the Foose on ice and snow, probably not my best move.
He came over for awhile yesterday, and Jon, unfortunately, was beginning to feel under the weather as in sick. So we ordered out for food, then needed to pick it up. I started to get the keys for the Acura MDX automatically, then Charles said, “We aren’t going to drive the mustang?”
I said, “Well, only if you drive. It’s been too long for me.” I made it sound like it was a hardship if he had to drive, so we should take the Acura. The look on his face made me realize I’d said a silly thing. Charles did not see it as a hardship to drive the Foose for the first time. Of course, he didn’t.
Jon stayed in, trying to feel better, and we went off to get the food. Beautiful day, Charles is enjoying the car. He let me know just how well-behaved Jon has been when driving with me in the Foose. Charles doesn’t quite realize how wimpy I am, and he made the car do what it’s meant to do. VROOM, is not just a word for cartoon cars. The Foose wants to go faster, it just does. It is not a car for moderation.
Charles drove it smoothly and effortlessly. But it’s my car, and I still can’t drive it smoothly or effortlessly. I was enjoying the drive, enjoying the car getting to stretch it’s legs, enjoying Charles, enjoying the car, but there was this niggling part of me that wasn’t happy. I realized, I’m intimidated by my own car. There are moments when I still wonder, what was I thinking?
Then we get passed by some other small, expensive sports car, and the driver looks at my Foose. Almost no matter what other sports car someone is driving, they give my red and black beauty a glance. Is it too teenage boy to enjoy that?
Charles just said, I had to stop complaining and just drive the car. That isn’t exactly what he said, but it was the gist of it. We dropped off a part of his own mustang that he’d taken out of the engine, so another car geek friend can weld it. It’s either the whole differential, or part of it. Either way, Charles pulls into his friends driveway. Charles opens the drivers side door but leaves the engine going. Partly, to remind himself not to get distracted talking cars, and part to simply let his friend hear the engine, I think.
His friends comment, “Do I just kill you now?”
Charles explained it was my car, and this was his first time driving it. The look on his friend’s face was a look I’ve seen on several car geek faces. The Foose is a fine piece of machinery. The errand done, we drove to the restaurant to pick up the take-out order. We’d talked about my not driving my car on the way. By the time we came out of the restaurant, Charles said, “You want to drive home?”
Honestly, the answer was, no. But it’s my car. It really is. I have to learn how to drive it. Damn it.
The car had to be backed out, and it was on a slight incline. The combination made it exciting. I think I killed the engine at least six times. Twice, had to stop backing up because Charles, yelled out, car! I managed to scare the preppy young men in the truck beside me, who were unloading some sort of large present. Charles offered to back it out for me, finally, because this was the hardest part. But, by then, I was angry, and I said, “No, it’s my car, I will back it out.”
Anger seems to work for me, because soon there after I successfuly backed out. It wasn’t pretty, but it did the job. I am happy to say I had no problem turning onto the main road. I even had a stop light and I had no problem there either. Yea!
Then there was the turn into my subdivision. I have no idea why I couldn’t get it, but I couldn’t. First, I was letting the clutch out too soon, then I was not giving it enough gas, then . . . Who knows? But at one point I killed the engine with the nose of the Foose in traffic, so that some poor driver had to stop and let me attempt to back up into the turn lane. I finally got it, lurching, and so not smooth, but by that time I was just happy to not be on a busy road with other cars.
Drove home, into the driveway, then I had Charles park it in the garage. Why? Because his motorcycle was parked in such a way that it was chancy. I didn’t want to hit his bike, or scratch my car. Also, the turn into the garage is interesting with the Foose, and the hood is high enough that it’s very hard to tell how close you are to the end of the garage wall. Even Jon has trouble and his spatial orientation is much better than mine.
I drove it home, but didn’t park it. Is that a defeat, or just wisdom? I promise to get better at parking the Foose when there is not a motorcycle in danger of being hit. Charles loves his Harley, and the Foose has let me know what it means to have affection for a mechanical device.
Charles agrees with Jon that I’m doing well. That I’m actually picking it up pretty quickly. All I can say, if this is quick, I’d hate to see slow. But then I scared myself on Sunday, killing the engine in traffic. Both of them tell me I’m being too harsh on myself. Me, too hard on myself? Never, or is that always?

The Tibetan bowl class was interesting. It was both spiritual, relaxing, and a physical work out. You work in pairs and hit the bowls with padded mallets, to make them ring and vibrate. They are laid out around your partner who is on a mat on the floor. It’s a lot of moving around. Funny how so many of the Eastern spiritual practices use both body,mind and spirit; yoga, ti-chi, martial arts in general. Yes, many of them have been brought to the West and made into something more mundane, more physical and less spiritual, but the original intent was for the practice to help develop all of a person. All includes your body, as well as your spirit. I like being able to move and pray at the same time. I guess I’m just not a stand-still kind of person, not in anyway.

I was honored by the Chamber of Commerce. Not something you really expect as a writer. But, apparently, the idea is that by writing about St. Louis and the surrounding area I’m bringing in business and raising the areas profile on a larger scale. Nifty.
I kept thinking that Bert Vaughn, Anita’s boss/business manager/ would so be a member of his chamber of commerce. He would so have been there shaking hands, smiling, making connections, working that room. Can’t you just see it; Animators Inc. as one of the sponsoring businesses? I had the idea that because of Anita’s high profile in the media that the other chamber of commerce members might want Bert to bring Anita in to meet them, or even make a speech. It would so not be her element. No, definitely not, but I think Bert would thrive in it.
What would Anita’s speech be about? I can see Bert making a speech about how you can take an ability that many people see as a problem, or even a curse, and turning into a very profitable business. Anita and I don’t always like Bert, but we have to acknowledge that he was the one that got people interested in raising the dead for money. It was Bert who first thought of approaching the historic societies, and the genealogy people. He was the one who first thought to ask therapists if their patients would benefit from one more talk with dear old dad, or mom. Let’s face it, without Bert’s business acumen Animators Inc would never have existed. Anita might have gone on to get her master’s in preternatural biology, and she might have been out in the field studying the Lesser Smoky Mountain Troll, or something more dangerous. I was always interested in animals that could eat me, more than plant eaters. There’d have been a small percentage chance that she and Richard might have met in some biology class or seminar. Who knows what might have been.
But Bert recruited Anita straight out of college, and he’d already found Manny Rodriquez. That was the beginning of Animators Inc. That was the beginning of Anita and Manny hunting vampires, and putting them in place to be vampire executioners. Without Bert, she wouldn’t have been there for the police to ask for help with the preternatural crimes. Without Bert Anita might never have met Jean-Claude. Without Bert’s business success and money skills, so much wouldn’t have happened. Listening to the chamber of commerce speakers talk about their jobs and how they got started and built their businesses, made me realize how truly pivotal Bert has been. I think of him as a minor character, but in the grand scheme of things his effect on Anita and her world has been anything but minor.
Funny, how me going to something so far outside my usual experience as a chamber of commerce awards banquet made me look at one of my characters in such a different way.
Tonight I’m going to something else that’s outside the usual for me; a Tibetan bowl class. Singing bowls, hand made, and attuned to the different chakras (energy centers of the body). I’ve never been to anything like it before. I wonder what I’ll learn, and how it will make me think about my world? Maybe it will just be about Jon and I and real life, but I find that most things feed into my writing. An occupational hazard, I guess.
I’ll leave you with a quote, part mine, and part Jon’s. I’ve said the first part of the quote for years, but Jon added the last bit, and it just works, like all of us obsessed individuals, it works.
Blessed are the obsessed; they get shit done.

My computers are up again with the new network stuff. The entire thing was vastly complicated because of my insistence that nothing change from my end. So you can’t just update me and give me some instructions. You’ve got to tweak everything. A real pain in the ass.
My apologies to my techs; Jon and Charles. Mostly Charles today, since he took the brunt of it. Darla was home sick so she couldn’t take my emergency intercom calls. Okay, my frantic, I can’t find my files calls.
I managed my six pages on Merry before Charles arrived and he and Jon started the process today. But there was no afternoon session on Anita, because of the surprisingly slow process, and my total freak about the tech. I’m better than I used to be about it, but . . . New tech, aaah!
I know it sounds silly, but I swear I can tell. It’s like one of those science fiction movies where your best friend comes in the door and you begin to suspect that they are not who they were, but some alien substitution. Okay, a little melodramatic, but it’s about where I am. I’ll calm down eventually.
Charles will be back tomorrow, but it won’t be any of my computers, yea! All the rest of the new stuff should be truly invisible to me. Here’s hoping.

Odd day, but in a good way. I was at my desk by a quarter ’til eight this morning. By nine I had my Merry pages done. Jon and I took the dogs for their walk, then I came back from my second writing session. Not on Merry, but on anything I wanted to write.
I’ve just started in the last few days, giving myself permission to write on other things for a second go ’round. So far, what I’ve mostly worked on is Anita. Merry first thing in the morning, then a brief break, then Anita. Sometimes the break is lunch, but this morning I was back at my desk for the second session by ten. By noon I was done. As in; had done more than my minimum pages on Merry, and done with my min pages on Anita. I was also tired. The writing was over for the day, but it was like lunch time. Weird.
Even for me this was an insanely quick day. So what do you do when you’ve planned to work the entire day and you get done by noon? Beats the heck out of me. I’m a workaholic, I have no idea what to do with down time.
Charles was over helping put up the new network, and other computer things. So when I finished at noon, Jon was still very immersed in the computer stuff. He was more than willing to break for lunch with me, but Charles had to stay at the desk with the computer. Which meant they were far from done, and though Charles could handle it without him, I knew Jon was trying to learn how to do all the new stuff, and that would work better if he was on sight for it’s installation. Jon would have gone to lunch and talked to me, visited. But he was in high guy-mode, all you women out there know what I mean. You can drag them away from the job, but sometimes you only get part of their attention. I can’t bitch too much since I do the same thing about my own job sometimes. So what to do?
I called my friend, and fellow writer, Sharon Shinn. I wasn’t sure she’d have time on such short notice, but her computer went in the shop this week, so I took a chance. She was free to come out and play. Yea!
So Sharon and I sat at a restaurant and ate and visited face to face. We’ve seen each other at writing get togethers, but I can’t honestly remember how long it’s been since we were able to catch lunch together. I know that Tippin’s restaurants still existed because that’s where we ate the last time. Since they went out of business some years ago, it’s been awhile. But Sharon works as hard as I do, so our schedule is pretty full.
So a free afternoon that filled me with something close to panic, turned into a very pleasant visit with a good friend. Jon got to stay home and work on the computer stuff with Charles, and do that guy bonding over tech and mechanics. Sharon and I girl bonded, over food and conversation.
Jon and I also did some work on the comic. Made and took some phone calls from New York. A busy day that included some relaxing time, nice, weird, but nice.

One of the most interesting things about life when something irretrievable happens is that the world does not stop. Everything else continues. One of the things to continue is the blog. So, here’s an attempt to get back to normal. Whatever that means.
I am on the cover of WRITERS DIGEST magazine. I knew they had done the interview, but I didn’t realize my picture was on the cover until Darla brought it to my attention on the web. The magazine is able to be ordered now, and those with a subscription have gotten their copies. It’s the April issue, so it’s either about to be on the shelves, or it currently is on the shelves.
When I was an aspiring writer in my teens, WRITERS DIGEST was one of the places that I learned how to be a professional writer. To be on the cover of the magazine now, would have blown my mind at the age of sixteen. It would have been inconceivable, to quote one of our favorite movies. But apparently, inconceivable really doesn’t mean what I thought it meant, because there I am on the cover. Most of the time stuff like this puzzles me. I never quite know how to feel about it. This one I know how to feel. It’s just plain nifty.

In Memoriam and Thank You, Comic Release Dates, Blood Noir Banners, T-Shirt Sale, Granite City APA Plea for Help!
LKH Bits are sent out to those on the free announce list at Yahoo and posted on the blogs for convience. Also posted on the Bulletins at MySpace.
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IN MEMORIAM AND A THANK YOU
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On Tuesday, February 19, 2008, Lieutenant Robert J. Cooney, Commander of the Mobile Reserve Unit was off-duty when he fell off the roof of his home. He was taken to Barnes-Jewish Hospital where he was pronounced dead due to injuries suffered in the fall. Lieutenant Cooney was 43 years old and a 19 year veteran of the Department. He is survived by his wife, a 13 year old daughter and a 10 year old son. A trust fund has been set up for the family of Lt. Robert J. Cooney. Contributions can be mailed to:
Cooney Trust Fund
AG Edwards/Wachovia Corp.
10369 Clayton Rd.
St. Louis, MO 63131
or call Karen Webb at 314-991-7848
The family has requested that donations be made to the trust in lieu of flowers.
Rob was Darla’s brother and Laurell’s Police Expert for what was real for St. Louis. His help was instrumental in getting things right, especially in “Incubus Dreams”. He will be missed.
I wanted to say thank you! Thank you to all my friends, both on line and off, who have sent condolences, flowers and donations to the trust fund for my niece and nephew. Your outpouring of sympathy has meant a lot to me and my family. Thank you Laurell and Jon, for all you did this week. Thank you for standing with me. Offering me a hand or a hug when I needed it most. Thank you Pili and Carri for dinner and your friendship. Thank you Bill and Jet for hand holding. Thank you to all the folks I knew so long ago who made time to come by and remind me of childhood stories.
A special thanks to the entire St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department and all the officers from all the departments everywhere who came out. Their unending and tireless acts during this difficult time made it more bearable. From turning out enmasse at the funeral home, sharing their memories of Rob with us, giving us moments to laugh at some antic they remembered, kind words that were meant with heart, sharing our tears, standing honor guard, to the less obvious things, like cleaning off the sidewalk before the family got there. We noticed those little things, as well as the larger ones. Our gratitude to you all!
When they say that an officer is a brother or sister in blue. They truly mean it and demonstrate it. So I offer this wish to them all on behalf of Rob and us all. May you have a long and safe career. May you have a long and glorious retirement. Don’t forget to enjoy the moments of your life. Rob did. And we will remember not only him, but also you in our prayers. Thank you.
Some have asked about the coverage that was mentioned. You can find it at http://www.myfoxstl.com, enter Cooney in the search box. The first link has a text and the sidebar has video. Though it is still too difficult for me to watch.
Darla
P.S. For those who asked, no, BackStoppers will not be assisting my sister-in-law, niece and nephew as my brother did not die in the line of duty. But please do not let that stop you from supporting them. They are a wonderful organization that helps out families of those who help us all.
COMIC RELEASE DATES
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GP 8 ? February 6, 2008
GP 9 ? March 5, 2008
GP 10 ? April 2, 2008
BLOOD NOIR BANNERS
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Copy and paste the code below in to your MySpace or website. Thanks!
http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8v…kJhbm5lci5qcGc=” target=”_blank”>..http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x…NoirBanner.jpg” border=”0″ alt=”Blood Noir Banner”>
Copy and paste the code below in to your MySpace or website. Thanks!
http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8v…m9pckFuaS5naWY=” target=”_blank”>..http://i186.photobucket.com/albums/x…oodNoirAni.gif” border=”0″ alt=”Blood Noir Animated Banner”>
T-SHIRT SALE
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https://www.laurellkhamilton.com/Merchandise/shirtsale.html
We are clearing out some of the t-shirts to make room for more! Also, with all that happened last week, I am behind on things. But will get orders out ASAP!
GRANITE CITY PLEA FOR HELP
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Dear Animal Lovers
We are asking, rather begging, at this point for your help. Our shelter is financially in very critical shape and in grave danger of closing. Our small membership continues to raise funds through every means possible, but its not enough. We need more members, we need more volunteers, but most of all, we need donations.
Granite City Animal Shelter in Dire Need of Donations Those of you, who feel as we do when… you’re handed a dog with a 50lb tow chain embedded in his neck for so long that when it was removed he can no longer hold his head up… when two cats are dropped off so infested with fleas that they have scratched their own eyes out… the Akita that was beaten with a 2×4 daily for discipline… Sweat Pea, a bait dog for dog fighting with such a grossly scarred face it was hard to look at… or a skeletal 75lb Great Dane unable to stand who was being starved to see how long it would take him to die!
These horror stories are the facts of daily shelter cases! Where as other shelters may have deemed them lost causes, we are happy to report ALL of these animals were given medical care and love are now living happily in their own homes!
Our shelter successfully adopted out over 600 healthy, happy dogs and cats last year and we hope to always be able to continue our good work. This task becomes more and more overwhelming as the stray, ill and unwanted animal population continues to grow as our economy becomes more pinched.
As much of the public is unaware, being a “NO KILL” shelter restricts our shelter to private donations for all the operating costs to maintain our facility. Because we chose to heal, reform and love our critters rather than euthanize them, we are unable and do not qualify for city, state or government funding.
Daily operations require heat, electricity, water, telephones, enormous amounts of foods, cleaning products, office supplies but foremost preventative medicines, operations (such as spays and neuters) and vet bills to rehabilitate and cure those animals that have come to us in the worst possible shape.
For these “rejected, unhealthy and unloved animals” we ask for your pennies, dimes and dollars. We are a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization. Though every puppy lick and kitty purr is worth a million to us! Please consider ANY donation a step toward our future and continued success. HELP! HELP! HELP! AND MUCH THANKS!
Click Here to Become a Guardian Angel
Granite City Newspaper Article Excerpt – No kill shelter may be headed for the doghouse By Marissa Vickers
Wednesday, February 6, 2008 8:20 AM CST
The Granite City Association for the Protection of Animals, a no-kill shelter, is in desperate need of donations if the facility is to remain open.
Several renovations have taken or are taking place at the shelter thanks to contributions, however, those monies are specific to the remodeling and refurbishing, and it’s the operating costs that are draining the resources.
“Our operating funds were down all of last year, like, ridiculously down,” said Lisa Confer, vice president of the APA. “We’re not getting the donations. “We don’t want to lose it. We’re trying to do anything we can. We just need more support from the community and I know a lot of people don’t know about us.”
Part of the problem with not having enough money is due to the fact that the APA is a no-kill shelter. Because of this reason, the shelter is ineligible for state or federal funding.
“That’s the problem — if we would promise to euthanize them we’d have to agree to keep them for X amount of days and then put them down, and we refuse to do that,” said Nancy Hall, president of the APA.
“We get no state or federal (funding) because we’re no-kill — not one dime. We refuse to become a kill shelter just to get state and federal funding.”
Hall said the only time the APA will put an animal to sleep is if it is too vicious, therefore, unable to be put up for adoption, or if the animal is sick and nothing can be done to help it.
At any one time there are approximately 75 pets waiting for adoption. Some have been there for months, other for years.
Hall said the monthly operating costs are quite high, as they do have paid employees.
“At a bare minimum our operating expenses are very large. I’m venturing to say between $18,000 and $20,000 a month — that’s for vet bills, utilities, heat, telephones, water, medications, food — just the everyday things you have to have,” Hall said.
She also explained that to wash the bedding for the pets is practically a fulltime job in itself. The APA has an industrial sized washer and dryer that Hall said are both going non-stop.
Hall admitted she is surprised by the fact that most of the facility’s donations don’t even come from the APAs hometown of Granite City.
“They come from Missouri,” she said. “Maybe the people in Granite, or this area, don’t realize how much we rely on the donations. (But) I realize times are hard for everybody.”
“We probably have enough for three months, but then after that, everything would be gone, we’d have nothing to fall back on. If we could get most of the operating expenses from donations then we wouldn’t have to take as much” from the emergency funds, Hall said.
“I’m absolutely fearful we’re going to shut down. If we can’t meet our operating expenses we’re going to shut down.”
According to their Web site, http://www.gcapa.org, $5 will feed a cat for a month, $10 will feed a dog, $15 will provide rabies shot for one animal, $500 will pay for a major surgery for one animal, and several other services at varying dollar amounts are listed in between.
Moreover, volunteers are needed as well.
To donate time or some much-needed money, please log onto their website, http://www.gcapa.org, or mail donations to Granite City APA, P.O. Box 1311, Granite City, IL 62040. The phone number is (618) 931-7030
The shelter is located at 5000 Old Alton Road down the street from the Knights of Columbus Hall.
Please Donate Now
That’s it for this bit!
Darla

Darla has said the thank you’s, I will try to talk about saying good-bye.
The St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department did Rob proud. I knew that police look at funerals differently, but I didn’t really understand what that meant. Now, I do. I have, unfortunately, been to more than my share of funerals, and they are sad and bitter things. What Jon and I went to this last week was a celebration of Rob’s life. His brothers spoke of his life, and what they’d learned from him being their big brother. Fellow police spoke, and made us laugh and remember who Rob was and what he stood for.
Was it sad? Yes. Damn bag pipes. I might have held out, except for those.
But this isn’t about the sad, this is about the amazing. We had a sea of uniforms at the church. I have never seen so many police vehicles as I saw that day. It wasn’t just the metro either, but every flavor of police that you can imagine was there, or had talked to Darla and her family in the last few days. It’s been amazing. Darla said it, in her post, brothers and sisters in blue. I’d heard the phrase, but I didn’t understand what it meant, now I do. Or I do, as much as someone can who has never worn a uniform. I was very aware of the fact that no matter how much research I do, I won’t get all of it. I just won’t.
It wasn’t just the police officers that showed their respects. The fire department had two ladder trucks with a huge American flag hanging from them. The flag spanned the road where the procession had to drive, so that we all drove under it. How cool was that?
The head of the procession was all police cars, and the shiny black S. W. A. T. van. When I first met Rob and was doing research for INCUBUS DREAMS, there was no sexy black van. The van was what I described, crowded, and more utility vehicle than armored car. That van was something that Rob got for his guys. He was always trying to get them better equipment, better training, better everything.
Jon and I followed Darla and Jack in the procession, or as close as we could come. Police were there to direct us, as cars had been along the way to the church like lit up bread crumbs to make sure none of us got lost. It’s what the police do every day, they keep the rest of us from getting lost.
There were police cars at every intersection so that the procession wouldn’t have to fight traffic. They closed down 55 south, completely from Broadway to Reavis Barracks. The last person that the high way was shut down for was, I believe, the president. When I say this day was amazing, I mean it.
There were moments on the high way when the road stretched out in such a way that Jon and I could see the head of the procession and all those flashing lights, and behind us, to see more flashing lights that were bringing up the rear. It was miles of cars, not just police, but family, and friends. The only reason you didn’t see it all on the news was that the weather was too bad for the choppers to get airborne.
There were police at every on-ramp keeping back traffic. Some saluted, and I had to fight not to salute back. I have not earned that right, not in anyway, but I saw it, and it meant a great deal.
The graveside is always tough. There were so many people, that only a small fraction could fit under the cover with the family. We stood back, letting the relatives be there. We waited in the cold, with the snow beginning to fall again. We were too far away to hear most of the words of the priest. I was too short to see. Art let us know when the flag was folded and given to Rob’s wife. But something’s we could hear, just fine. There were more bagpipes, and drums. There was a gun salute, and staring straight at the riflemen, I still jumped with the first shot. I always do. The police dogs did not like the guns going off, either. I don’t know why the fact that they barked stands out in my mind, but it does.
Darla and her family came away, and we gave the comfort we could. Then it was time for the wake. I’d never been to a wake before. Carri had to go to work, so we took Pili in our car to meet Darla and Jack at the policemen’s hall. Again, it was crowded, and full of people with stories about Rob. Not just police, but friends that they grew up with as kids. So, the stories ranged from Rob literally saving someone’s life (there were a lot of those), to trouble all the Cooney children got into as kids. I think I now know more stories about Darla’s family than my own. Or maybe they’re just more fun.
At the end of the day, when talking to the family, the word, amazing kept coming up. What an amazing day it was. That is not a word you get to hear at the end of a day from most good-byes. But Rob was an amazing man, and did more in his life than most of us even knew.
I’ve skipped a lot here about talking to the family individually, because that just doesn’t seem mine to share. But it seemed right, and I’ve got permission from more than just Darla, to let you guys know how incredible it all was.