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I
’
m
not
sure
this
is
a
world
I
belong
in
anymore
.
I
’
m
not
sure
that
I
want
to
wake
up
.
I
’
ve
only
ever
been
to
one
funeral
in
my
life
and
it
was
for
someone
I
hardly
knew
.
I
might
have
gone
to
Great
-
Aunt
Glo
’
s
funeral
after
she
died
of
acute
pancreatitis
.
Except
her
will
was
very
specific
about
her
final
wishes
.
No
traditional
service
,
no
burial
in
the
family
plot
.
Instead
,
she
wanted
to
be
cremated
and
have
her
ashes
scattered
in
a
sacred
Native
American
ceremony
somewhere
in
the
Sierra
Nevada
Mountains
.
Gran
was
pretty
annoyed
by
that
,
by
Aunt
Glo
in
general
,
who
Gran
said
was
always
trying
to
call
attention
to
how
different
she
was
,
even
after
she
was
dead
.
Gran
ended
up
boycotting
the
ash
scattering
,
and
if
she
wasn
’
t
going
,
there
was
no
reason
for
the
rest
of
us
to
.
Peter
Hellman
,
my
trombonist
friend
from
conservatory
camp
,
he
died
two
years
ago
,
but
I
didn
’
t
find
out
until
I
returned
to
camp
and
he
wasn
’
t
there
.
Few
of
us
had
known
that
he
’
d
had
lymphoma
.
That
was
the
funny
thing
about
conservatory
camp
;
you
got
so
close
with
the
people
over
the
summer
,
but
it
was
some
unwritten
rule
that
you
didn
’
t
keep
in
touch
during
the
rest
of
the
year
.
We
were
summer
friends
.
Anyhow
,
we
had
a
memorial
concert
at
camp
in
Peter
’
s
honor
,
but
it
wasn
’
t
really
a
funeral
.
Kerry
Gifford
was
a
musician
in
town
,
one
of
Mom
and
Dad
’
s
people
.
Unlike
Dad
and
Henry
,
who
as
they
got
older
and
had
families
became
less
music
performers
than
music
connoisseurs
,
Kerry
stayed
single
and
stayed
faithful
to
his
first
love
:
playing
music
.
He
was
in
three
bands
and
he
earned
his
living
doing
the
sound
at
a
local
club
,
an
ideal
setup
because
at
least
one
of
his
bands
seemed
to
play
there
every
week
,
so
he
just
had
to
hop
up
on
the
stage
and
let
someone
take
the
controls
for
his
set
,
though
sometimes
you
’
d
see
him
jumping
down
in
the
middle
of
a
set
to
adjust
the
monitors
himself
.
I
had
known
Kerry
when
I
was
little
and
would
go
to
shows
with
Mom
and
Dad
and
then
I
sort
of
remet
him
when
Adam
and
I
got
together
and
I
started
going
to
shows
again
.
He
was
at
work
one
night
,
doing
the
sound
for
a
Portland
band
called
Clod
,
when
he
just
keeled
over
on
the
soundboard
.
He
was
dead
by
the
time
the
ambulance
got
there
.
A
freak
brain
aneurysm
.
Kerry
’
s
death
caused
an
uproar
in
our
town
.
He
was
kind
of
fixture
around
here
,
an
outspoken
guy
with
a
big
personality
and
this
mass
of
wild
white
-
boy
dreadlocks
.
And
he
was
young
,
only
thirty
-
two
.
Everyone
we
knew
was
planning
on
going
to
his
funeral
,
which
was
being
held
in
the
town
where
he
grew
up
,
in
the
mountains
a
couple
of
hours
’
drive
away
.
Mom
and
Dad
were
going
,
of
course
,
and
so
was
Adam
.
So
even
though
I
felt
a
little
bit
like
an
impostor
crashing
someone
’
s
death
day
,
I
decided
to
go
along
.
Teddy
stayed
with
Gran
and
Gramps
.
We
caravanned
to
Kerry
’
s
hometown
with
a
bunch
of
people
,
squeezing
into
a
car
with
Henry
and
Willow
,
who
was
so
pregnant
the
seat
belt
wouldn
’
t
fit
over
her
bump
.
Everyone
took
turns
telling
funny
stories
about
Kerry
.
