Read and remember. Please.

My Weekend.

WARNING: I change tenses a lot here, from past to present to future. Bear with it, it's part of my charm.

I arrived the night before the event (friday night) with my dad and my stepbrothers/stepsister. We did what we do best...got drunk with Curtis. A few hours later, my sister Renee showed up with her husband, and a litter of children. Drinks were had, Wii was played, everything was pretty normal. Ya know, as normal as funeral eve's get. A lot of people crashed there that night, and I was content with a couch and a drinking partner. Alas, due to Budweiser, Gibson's Whiskey, and grief, Curtis and I Wii-bowled till 5:30AM and discussed many things. I began to understand more than I ever imagined about the man I call my brother, and always will. No one is ever gonna leave your side bro. No one.

2 hours later, I woke up sweating, literally stuck to a leather couch, with a dog nose in my face. Joyous. The only thing that made me feel better about being this hungover was seeing Curtis stagger into the kitchen to answer the already-ringing phone a few minutes later. If I had to feel this shitty, at least I had company...I know he was just as fucking hungover as I was. I managed to unstick myself for the couch, which fucking hurt, and realized my pockets full of change had made their way into the bowels of my bed for the night. Oh well...donating 9.47 to Curtis and his couch was the least I could do. Dogs, cats and kids woke up, the decibel level went up, and I reluctantly re-entered the aggravation I've dodged my entire life.

I felt like garbage, but wasn't sure what to do about it...till Curtis sat down next to my with his trusty Gibson's bottle and took a swig. It might have been early, but I couldn't let him drink alone...good brothers don't do this kind of thing. Hello, Coors Light. Nice to see ya. I got a dirty look from nearly everyone for cracking a beer at 9AM, but they can go and make sweet love to themselves. If they wanna deal with their issues with tears and embraces, go ahead...that's not my fucking thing. For better or worse.

Suddenly, I'm in a hall normally reserved for drinking. A legion. If you've ever spent any time in this environment, you start to understand that a memorial service is pretty similar to your average tuesday afternoon up in a place like this. Men in uniform (or long past such trivial matters) sit around old tables with adult beverages, speaking of fallen comrades and "the good ole days". But today, my sister is that comrade, and those days are not so far gone. They were last week, and a saturday the month before that, and the celebration of another special life a couple of summers ago. Today, this place has balance...half of the people wear the uniforms of our country's finest, of which my sister was a proud member. A select few wore the pink pajamas my sister spent much of her spare time in...and the rest of us wore whatever the hell we felt like, as per Jenner's wishes.

The days leading up to this event have been filled with heartache and acrimony for many people involved, and things are not about to resolve themselves peacefully today. Her kids, my niece and nephew, are standing in front of me...confused and scared, unsure about what their future holds. 12 and 11. So impressionable. Their mom may be somewhere else, but they are not alone. Many in the room have a vested interest in their lives, and these people are just as confused and worried about how this will all play out. As important as all this stuff is, the people in this unique place of worship and death have silently agreed to set aside the next few minutes to honour the memory of someone they all hold in high regard.

People talk. The words are a blur. I'm staring at flags, at my watch, at everything but reality.

The unspoken words of Curtis resonate through the place like thunder, as much as his words did. We understand, man, as much as we can. You made me proud.

Renee is strong, articulate, and witty...the yin to my yang. I can write it here, long after the fact...but she can stand up like an adult and say it. Her words were broad and powerful. She managed to make everyone there feel like she was speaking directly to them, like no one else was in the room. She said many nice things about me up there, including compliments on my writing. And she made 100+ people stare at me. Thanks Renee! In all seriousness, sis, my writing doesn't hold a candle to your presence and personality. You made a lot of people feel really good about themselves. Jenner would be proud of you.

The power of a terrible disease was never more evident than the words expressed by the third and last official speaker at the ceremony, Jen's friend Debbie. She had known Jen a relatively short time, but Debbie had overcome cancer, and she was a true friend and sounding board for my sister. Her words were heartfelt and honest, and despite never laying eyes upon the lady until she grabbed that mic, I could see what my sister saw in her. Inspiration.

The floor is opened to anyone who wants to speak. My dad is the first volunteer. His monotone words about my mother and sister are too much for me, and I am overcome by emotion, hoping that all those people staring at me 2 minutes ago are somehow in the bathroom, or staring at the ceiling or something. I hadn't cried since the same man spoke of my mother when she passed 2 1/2 years ago, when he managed to crack up both myself and Mikey, my brother in arms. Today, I had no Mikey at my side...but I'm not ashamed to say that my lip was quivering, salty tears invaded my cheeks, and I was heartbroken. And I'm not afraid to say that as I type these words, 38 hours later...I'm wiping the same tears off the same cheeks. I've never met anyone, nor will I ever again, that will ever have that power over me. That's a testament to the greatest man I've ever known. Fred Ingram. I hope he reads this someday, so he gets it. Too bad he's allergic to the internet. : )

After that, others spoke. Members of the military spoke highly of service. Friends spoke highly of her compassion and caring nature. Everyone spoke of her stubbornness...highly or not, it was worth mentioning. : ) Sheila spoke of Jenner's love of camping, and cracked up everyone in the room after mentioning her love of tie-dye...and jello shooters. Amber, with nothing prepared beforehand, was able to define the essence of what Jenner was all about with a few short words. If anyone knew how much love Jen had in her core, it was Amber. Amber, you were Jenner's best friend...her connection to her youth, her litmus test as a mother, her sounding board, and most of all, the bestest big sister you could be to Chimene and Brandon. Thanks for tellin everyone that I'm your homey...obviously, the feeling is mutual. You're the only one I watched while they made their speech. It was all kinds of awesome. You did good....werd.

I guess you're wondering by now whether I got up and said anything. No, I did not. While I had enough to say to fill hours, days, and stadiums...I couldn't do it. As stated above, I'm much better at the written word. Jenner knew that, and was okay with it. She told me so. If I had, I dunno, 350-27,000 words though, here's what I would have said:

Jenner, you trusted me, and respected my opinion. No adult ever did before you. You came to me when times were hard, and actually asked my opinion. When I was helpful, you told me. And when I wasn't, you told me as well. You trusted me with those midget kids of yours when they were just leetle, and tried to give me part of the credit for them turning out as well as they have, deserved or not. It took a long time for me to understand the influence I wielded in your life. The confidence you showed in me and my judgement helped build the foundation for who I am today. No one has ever had the faith in me that you had. No one.

Everyone figured we were exactly alike. Every day I get accused of being just like my sister Jennifer, and I couldn't think of a bigger compliment. When mom died, you were there, right beside me. I knew I'd wake up in the morning, and you'd be there to laugh at my terrible jokes...and vice versa. Mostly yours, but hey, who's counting. Ya know what? When all this went down, that made me wanna get outta bed in the morning, no matter how terrible I felt. So I could make other people laugh, and ease their pain. These people...Curtis, of course....Chimene, Brandon...Dad, and Amber, and Val, and Justin n Jeff, Renee, Jonanthan, and their midgets, and Gerry...that's your legacy, along with many others. They make me laugh, just like you would. You would have laughed at Amber, Val, And Justin in Jenner-style pink pajamas. At Sheila talking bout you and your Jello Shots. At your military superiors commenting on your legendary stubbornness. At Renee talking about the f'n terrible clothes you used to wear back in the day.

I'm sorry I didn't get up and tell them all this. You know me. I'd rather be read than heard. Renee is the talker, I'm the writer. I hope you're not mad. Ya know, even if ya are...screw you! Next time our paths cross, I'm gonna tell you about all the awesome jokes I came up with! They're terrible and wrong, and everyone would condemn me to some bad places for coming up with them, but you woulda laughed your ass off. You're the only one that ever appreciated that kinda shit, and vice versa. Even when mom died, we mighta offended a lot of people, but we sure fuckin entertained each other! Yours were worse than mine...YEAH!...but I'll be goddamned if you didn't have me in tears from laughter every day. When your bench at Hatley is done and there....I'm gonna show up and tell you the worst jokes possible...jokes only you and I would appreciate. Screw the rest of em if they don't understand....I can just imagine the hilarity you'd get outta seeing me talking to a bench.

Jenner, always remember this...I've said it before to you...but....



No matter what they told you, you're not alone

I'll be right beside you

Forevermore.



I love you Jenner. Sweet dreams.