Not thinking properly

I have been following the pregnancy and birth journey of a young baby on facebook. Sadly, he lost his fight with a chromosomal disorder on August 3rd, exactly one month before my mother went home to heaven. Today I felt compelled to send the baby's mother a budvase with a small teddy bear. The woman at the flower shop was so helpful, as I didn't have the address. I started to cry as I dictated the card message, "My mother went home to Jesus last week. She is in heaven holding baby Jonah." My mother loved babies. When our eldest daughter was born, our mother would stop every day after work to visit her, bringing her an apple or turnover or treat of some kind. So I hope the gift is received with joy and not fear or sadness. I tell this young mother that I am here for her, but I think she is here for me or that we are here on this grief journey together. I feel so bruised and the trigger of the card message shook me to the core. I am still reeling from my mother's short illness and death. I locked myself out of the house and had to crawl through a window to get in because I am not thinking properly.

Life goes on

I mowed the back yard today. It had grown during our vacation, so I could run around the perimeter twice and then empty the grass catcher. The grass was heavy and wet. I ran over the funnel that I used to fill the mower gas tank. My friend, one of the owners, bought us a delicious meal today--grilled chicken, rolls, homemade mashed potatoes and green beans. My husband, son, two daughters and I enjoyed it. So thoughtful! I rode my horse, Hope, this morning. I used a different saddle and I think the stirrups stayed on the ball of my foot better. Did pretty well, but there was an awkward moment when I was giving Hope mixed signals. I am sad that my mother will never see me ride Hope. My husband has an appointment for hearing aids on Tuesday. I am excited as he will be more connected. My son's car needs a new thermostat and it is time for an oil change and to check the air pressure in the tires as one is low. Also the inside door handle stays out and the transmission needs to be tested.

At peace outside with my dogs

I downloaded an ebook "Please have patience with me, I'm grieving." I wish the owner of the flower shop had patience. Today was his first day back after five days off. I had been off nine days so didn't know this. I wanted to pay for my mother's funeral flowers, but he hadn't updated my account yet. So when I asked him about paying, he became defensive. No problem, because I can pay on the account and when he updates the money will be there. He had too much going on. He is giving my son, daughter and me, 2 days of bereavement pay. Our coworkers chipped in and bought us a beautiful sympathy card and a gift certificate to a restaurant. It was so very thoughtful! I am trying to write thank you notes but I can't establish a rhythm. It would be so much easier if they were only from me. I would know how to address my aunts, uncles and cousins, but as it is, it's a mess. I worked for an hour and a half and got 7 written. The only time I feel content is when I am outside with my two dogs.

Beautiful funeral Mass

The granchildren placed the white baptismal cloth on the casket and the undertakers rolled my mother's casket to the front of the church with the children, grand children and great-grandchildren following. The music was words set to Beethoven's "Ode to Joy," Immaculate Mary because my mother prayed the rosary, "I am the Bread of Life" and "On Eagle's Wings." My daughter and nephew read the readings, two of my children presented the bread and wine. After the Mass, we had a reception at the parish activity center. The interrment was later in the afternoon. Some friends and family spent some time at my dad's house after. My dad was disappointed that his brother and sister did not come, but I believe that my aunt's husband was having a difficult time. After I came home, I fell asleep for the night. I am working today, the first time in over a week. Had to deal with a couple problems, but I can't think of my mother when I am dealing with orders. I have tried calling my dad twice with no luck. I have to put some kind of safeguard in place.

Funeral mass today

At the end of the visitation last night, EMTs had to come and give my cousin an IV. He had taken too much insulin for the food he had eaten. He and his mother apologized and my brother told him, "Keep on doing that, and I will poke you in the other arm," meaning there is absolutely no need to apologize. Funerals are stressful and tiring. The first two hours of the visitation seemed long, the last two not so much. Happy to see my boss and a coworker, friends my brother grew up with, a former coworker and his wife of my dad's, friends of my sister from the martial arts school, along with aunts, uncles, cousins and their children. I get teary thinking of my sweet aunt, my mother's dearest sister. She lives 4 hours away and my cousins have the responsibiity of driving her to the funeral and back the same day. And the stress of my aunt possibly yelling out something sarcastic during the funeral. It doesn't matter to me if she is disruptive. I will be glad to see her and spend some time with her. She repeats herself over and over. Again, I get sad thinking of my former sister-in-law's elderly mother who drove an hour to visit with my parents while my mother was alive. She, at 89 years old, is facing health issues. She and my sister-in-law showed so much kindness. My other sister-in-law has been grieving her mum for many years. I am hoping that the death of my mother will help her work through the death of her own. I pray that my frail, elderly 90 year old father will have the strength to attend the funeral, the luncheon, the interment and the private meal at his home. It will be a long funeral day. His brother and sister and her husband will be here to support him.

Visitation at the funeral home

Years ago, my mother gave me a charm bracelet. Over the years, she must have added 40 charms. I'd like to wear it to the funeral home because she gave it to me, but it is noisy and clunky and I am afraid I'll hit someone with it. So, I am wearing the black "angel" bracelet that my daughter gave me. Also a rouched black top that my mother said was "slimming" with black and white dress pants. I took the fruitcake, tomatoes in a mason jar, scrabble game and cards to the funeral home. I thought it might be helpful to have explanations written up so I printed those and taped them to heavy cardboard. I woman at the funeral home said tears come in waves and that is how it has been with me. I'm fine and then something triggers a second of crying. My hope and prayer is that the funeral home can set up for my mother after the Memorial service earlier in the afternoon.

Numb

I seem to be in hyper mode. Busy making a fruit cake, organizing the playing card drawer, building a scrabble game, cleaning the aquarium, walking the dogs. And talking up a storm. I think my dad understands this behavior the best. Seems strange to me. Something is not quite right, because I can't think things through properly. I can't sit still, I don't want to think, I am numb. I am protecting myself by not feeling anything. Tomorrow friends and family will gather at the funeral home to honor my mother who passed away early Saturday morning. Her funeral Mass is Friday. I went to visit my 90 year old dad, who, is conflicted. On the one hand, he misses my sweet mother but on the other, he is now free to come and go as he pleases. We went to the funeral home and several banks today. I am eager to see my mother, to kiss her cheek and tell her I love her. I am so very grateful for the 64 years that she was in my life. Interesting, but my grandfather passed away when my Dad was 64. She loved flowers and I am excited about the arrangements that have been sent. I will enjoy talking to people and listening to their stories. I hope to see my uncle who just spent 8 weeks in the hospital. I think of my mother when I hear the music from Jeopardy because we watched the program together. I see her pretty flowers and I think of the Monday that I brought them. I asked her, "Which color is your favorite?" and she said smiling, "All of them." I straighten the three butterflies--one pink, one yellow, one orange--and know how much she enjoyed them. I realize that it is not about me. It is about my dad, my siblings, my aunts, uncles and cousins.