…or something like that.
I apologize at the beginning as my thoughts are going to be rather scattered.
If you’ve never planned a funeral, before or after the death of a loved one, let me tell you it can be exhausting. In the wake of knowing someone you care for will shortly die or has already, you’re responsible for knowing their most personal desires. From favorite music, pictures, flowers, clothing and scripture to who s/he would want carrying their body to rest or the type of stone to adorn the grave, I know understand funerals are beyond complicated.
Throw in family that are at best emotionally retarded and you’ve got a situation on your hands.
Many of the things I did to prepare for my own grandma’s funeral were tasks I was willing to take on. The only published writer in the family, I wrote the obituary, edited the eulogy, prepared the memorial brochure and corresponded with the pastor. As the only one with the contact and will to do so I called the three pall bearers outside of the family, cried with them over the phone and made arrangements. The one entrusted with the family photos I made a slideshow of my grandma’s life.
In writing the obituary I was instructed to mention the memorial fund that the family set up in grandma’s honor. It’s this fact that brings me to the point of this post.
Yes, I have a point. Though well obscured I’m sure.
As I notified many of my dear friends of grandma’s passing I sent a few of them (can’t remember now for the life of me) a link to the online obituary I wrote.
The last month has been one of the hardest of my life. Continually assaulted by memories of taking grandma shopping, sitting in prayer, playing with a cat or simply laughing and giving her a hug, I have never felt more alone.
Don’t get me wrong, my friends have been beyond supporting during this time. The one I mentioned in my last post who came to the service has been a great source of encouragement. My grandfather’s friends who seemed to know I was a minute away from breaking down have become so dear. Even a simple task like going out to lunch with Tres and talking about it all has helped so much.
Yesterday, I received a card in the mail. Not the first as my mother’s friends have sent sympathy cards in the past few weeks. But this one was special. This card came from my (adopted) sister and several close friends from the Women in Red. More than the card they gave generously and included a check for grandma’s memorial fund as well.
Ladies, I wish I could be there to thank and hug each of you individually but until we meet again I can only offer you my most sincere thanks and these flowers from my garden.
For Sheila, Denise, Paula, Susan, Phoenix, Kathy, April and Tanya, 8 beautiful roses for 8 beautiful ladies: