you pretend it doesn't bother you, but you just want to explode

Today, something truly awful happened: I missed the flight to get to my grandfather's funeral. I had the ticket, I had the time I needed to leave and all of a sudden I am "persuaded" to leave at 7:15 as opposed to 7:00 to get to Hartford for my (;15 flight to BWI. I get on the road and by the time I finally hit the stretch oh 84 torwards hartford, it's allready 9 pm. My father had a shit-fit, my mother refused to speak to me, and only my brother could offer the advice that it was not the end of the world. I now look like a complete asshole and have most likely been picked for the new reality TV series " Disowned". I wanted to trhow up, but instead I just went straight home, threw down my gear, ate some hummus, and fixed myself a rum and coke. I almost made myself another but came to the conclusion that it would suck to be hungover and STILL depressed as all hell. I figure the least I can do is pray for the service to go on with out me, reimburse dad for the ticket, and make my peace with God and my family. Although I (hopefully) will not burn in hell for all eternity, it feels like I already am. I'm better now, but still feeling shell-shocked. Here are the remarks I was supposed to be reading tomorrow:

It's good to see a lot of people here. When I was thinking of how to remember my grandfather, I came across a quote by Psychotherapist and Spiritual author Dr. Wayne Dyer, who writes in "Real Magic" that there are two types of people: Human beings having a spiritual experience and spiritual beings having a human experience. Bill was truly the latter: a spiritual being having a human experience. My grandfather taught me a lot about being a "spiritual being" and doing what is right for not just yourself, but other people. Along with my grandmother Priscilla, he put this thought into action, helping to bring about Church of The Apostle in Fairfax, Va. Bill was also active in his parish at the retirement community he was a part of, helping with many aspects of parish life. Growing up I remember playing around in the yard of my grandparents small Virginia house. If we grandkids were lucky, Grandpa would come out of the cellar we knew as the "dungeon" and leave his dusty Commodore II computer to watch us listen to Cicadas. (No Bill, you can't take your laptop to heaven with you). Later on, he would come to our house, which meant NO TV and watching as he read our school textbooks like a classic novel. He would then give us REAL history through his stories from his military career and his years writing about aviation. Living with my grandfather was a life of lessons passed down. It's so hard for us to fathom the idea of our own worth next to that of our elders, in so many ways we feel inadequate, as if they are superheroes and we are all to fallable. Men like my Bill rarely get recognized these days, their values and way of life seen as old-fashioned or "plain". I could go on with many memories, but I will leave with this thought: Anyone who knew Bill is better for it, and his kindness and gentle way of giving to others will survive in all of us.