Mourning my mother post the second (#SFWApro)

About a decade ago, Mum took seriously ill. I remember curling up in a ball at one point and crying out of a mix of fear and helplessness.

I think that’s one reason the funeral last week was relatively easy, and why I’m feeling more periods of peace than sadness. I mourned a long time ago. And kept mourning as she got quieter and more withdrawn and harder to talk to (I have real difficulty talking with someone who doesn’t — in Mum’s case, can’t — respond).

By contrast the ceremony last week was, well, uplifting. My bestie Cindy Holbrook took on the responsibility for the service (with lots of feedback from us); as they say, she made it more a celebration of Mum’s life than a grieving for her death. Her love of theater. Her love of books. Her years of working with kids in one capacity or another. Her sense of humor. Some of the things she said (“Other people are not responsible for your feelings.”). It went a long way to helping me think about Mum as more than just a sad invalid.

There was also a beautiful photo montage.

And of course, funerals are social occasions. I saw a number of friends I haven’t met in the flesh in years. That helped too.

And away from the funeral, there were visits with a couple of other friends. 500 rummy games with my siblings and TYG. Just talking and catching up.

There were still moments of crying. And I think there are more waiting in the wings in the coming months. But I’m okay with crying. Overall, I think I’m doing okay.

Below what our otherwise pleasant motel claimed were fried eggs on the breakfast buffet.


Leave a comment

Filed under Personal

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.