My brother's possessions could all fit into the back of a pickup truck. Still, we feel that he was part of the community there and liked by all. Boyd struggled with his own thoughts all his days and would be in and out of our lives, so much so that it's hard to believe he's not going to just show up at my door like he used to when we lived in California. He would be driving a semi-load to somewhere and we'd get a knock on the door. I'd give him a haircut, let him take a shower, fill up his coffee thermos and send him on his way. Tyler and Kelly remember climbing into his great, big trucks, but Glenna was too little. Still, she got to meet him when he came all the way to Florida with a load shortly before he moved to New Mexico.
We cleaned out the tiny trailer and that was that.
Back at Mom's there were delicious dishes of food brought to us from the people in the village. Our dear friends John and Cathy came by and we talked and laughed and cried for hours. John and Cathy were friends of my parents in California - they, along with Joanne K. (also now in Mom's community) raised us kids together and had so many stories to tell.
What a blessing it was to be able to talk about him with those who knew him; Wendy and Lester knew him now, and John and Cathy knew him now AND back then. We must have said everything we could, but we certainly said everything we needed to.