I really, really don't want to go to our friend's funeral tonight. Oh, I'm going, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't go and offer my condolences and say goodbye, but I don't want to go.
We've never met his family. I don't even know what family he had. Husband and I were friends with him through our local bar where we hung out and played free pool once or twice a week. Other-husband knew him a little from high school.
Driving past the roadside memorial is hard enough. There's Christmas lights and a wreath, Packers flags and teddy bears. We have to drive by it a couple times a day and I hate knowing that I'm passing right over the place where my friend died.
I feel terribly awkward going in there, honestly. It's not about me, though, which is why I'm going. His family deserves to know how well-loved he was. The bar is even closed until after the funeral. Everyone we know is planning on going.
I keep remembering the last friend's funeral we went to. He also died in a car crash. His family chose to have an open coffin. The mortuary people did a great job, really, but it was... strange. It didn't really look like him. I'm finding myself hoping that our friend's family has chosen differently.

I need to go and get ready, now. Thanks for listening to me ramble.