In a few words...
It has been a Long couple of days.
It feels like it's been a week but in reality it's only been a few days. It's harder to talk about an a little easier to write about, but I'm finding myself tearing up as I'm writing this.
In some ways, I kind of enjoyed the quiet after we burried grandma, but my dad refused to let that last more than about twenty-four yours.
A lot of family came over on Friday, but it just-so-happened to be my Uncle Mike- my mom's older brother- birthday on Friday.
Saturday morning we got up, got ready and got in the car. It's actually kinda funny, on the way there the song "puttin' on my boogie shoes' came on, and that made me think of how much fun grandma must be having up in heaven. That made me chuckle. But as we got closer and closer to the place where grandma was going to be burried, the more nervous I felt and the weight and pain in my chest got heavier and more pronounced. I was relieved that she was still in the herse when we got there, although due to having my sister and her stroller- off-road wheelchair, it's cool- we had to park behind it. I stayed relatively a good bit away from that.
We all got out of the car and were sorta mingling with people. I don't really remember who I talked to, it was kind of a blur, and I feel like a lot of it was spent in a fog. Then the guy in charge got all the folks carrying the casket- paul bearers, I don't know how to spell that- together. He had us stand out of the way then we as the family followed. As we walked under the tent, I tripped over something and fell into a chair. I learned later that it was a grave marker.
I moved a row forward and sat beside my sister.
I don't remember much from the sermon or whatever it was. The one thing I remember in the beginning was that he said that grandma had graduated and that graduation heralds good things afterward. That made sense to me.
Then the lady who takes care of Nikki- my twin- got up and sang. She had become good friends with my grandma over the years and she wanted to say something and then sing a song. It wasn't the song that my grandma wanted, but Vanessa didn't know that one and wanted to do a good job, so I was cool with it. Because that was kinda the thing I felt responsible for. My grandma had told me back when I was in the choir in high school, that that song was the one that she wanted.
So Vanessa sang. It wasn't until she got to the chorus and it kind of took on a soulful tone that I lost my control of myself. I had been crying but it was just tears running down my face, at that point I sobbed, and it set my sister to crying... I'm sure this is bad, but I kinda find that funny now... donno why, I'm just weird I guess.
Then the minister talked about how my grandma would walk to the church that he works for and she would refuse a ride, that's just how she was you know, independent.
Then I don't remember how it ended, but I stayed to watch them lower the casket, my sister and dad couldn't do that, so they left and my mom was still crying with my Uncle Mike and Aunt Sally. I have to say, my cousin's wives, Ashley and Miranda are great. (Hi Miranda and I'm not just saying that because you're reading this ;)) they came up to Chelsea0 my younger sister- and I, and gave us hugs and let us cry. That was awesome.
I needed to see it completed, so as the funeral folks were taking the drapes off of the chairs, I went up to one of them- found out it was the guy in charge- and got him to explain everything that was going on. It was really neat, evidently in this cemetary, they put the caskets in a concrete box and the lid lays on a sliding bar behind the casket during the service, then they lower the casket into the box, then slide the lid forward and seal it. Then they lower the box into the grave. Then I watched them take the mechanism apart. I would have stayed and watched as they covered the box with dirt, but my dad came and him and someone else wouldn't let me.
It some how made me feel better to see it completed. I also tossed one of the carnations that she had on her casket into the hole after they lowered it. I'm glad I stayed and watched.
Then afterwards, my family, my cousins, Scott and Andy with their wives Ashley and Miranda, my Uncle Mike and his wife Susan and my cousins Laura and Sara, and my Aunt Sally and Uncle Thurl (Andy and Scott's parents) all went out to eat. That was what grandma wanted us to do and frankly I'm glad we did. We had a lot of fun. There were 13 of us, but 12 that needed chairs because Nikki was still in her stroller, so some of us had to go to another table. Luckily it wasn't too far away. It was fun, I went over to the other table with Scott Andy Miranda and Ashley. We joked that we were sent to the kids table. But as the lunch progressed, it turned into a silly experience. My dad was shooting spitballs at my cousins and Scott was tossing little pieces of corn bread back at the other table, but hitting almost everyone else But my dad. Andy was laughing and couldn't figure out how they were shooting over my head and hitting him. My dad said it was because he has skills. Needless to say, it was fun.
After the day before with people at our house, I appreciated coming home and it being quiet. The funeral home had put signs in our yard that said 'slow down, funeral' on them. It was pretty cool, neighbors came and brought stuff, a lot of cake, white bread, and lunch meat. The sentiment was nice, although most of it went to feeding our family that came over on Friday.
Yesterday, Sunday, my dad put the pictures of grandma away. The had been on a table that we set up in our Living Room for the party on Friday and Uncle Mike brought all of these pictures. Frankly, it's been hard for me to look at pictures of grandma, and quite by accident I had to go hang up the clothes that the funeral home didn't use and in her closet, I found her favorite pink fluffy sweater and accidentally touched it. That still makes me really sad to remember what it felt like, and I'm kinda glad that my Aunt Sally took all of grandma's clothes with her yesterday. Smelling grandma was hard.
So my dad took down the piectures and unfortunately that was while mom was out. She came home to find them all in the storage bin they came in. She got upset and is still kinda mad at my dad about that.
It's interesting, some people find comfort in looking at pictures and can't bear to see them go, but I can't stand to look at them, it hurts too much. Although Ashley and Scott brought us pictures that they took of grandma with their son Cowen a few weeks ago. I got the one where she was smiling and looking lovingly and Cowen and Scott, all the others made me too sad.
The other thing is that grandma's room had once been Chelsea's room then she moved into mine when grandma came then she got her own room when we turned our front pourch into a room for her about a year ago. So my mom said that she wanted me to move into the room that grandma used to be in. At first I didn't want to, but my mom kept saying how grandma never wanted to push us out of our rooms. I agreed to move, but I didn't want anything in my room that belonged to grandma, it hurts too much. I know that hurt my mom's feelings and I apologized but that's just the way I feel. Maybe it'll be different later. I just kinda need a break and get used to the idea of her not being here.
So last night, I was feeling restless and took apart grandma's bed and put it on the back pourch and it's going to go to one of Andy's kids because she said the other day that she wanted a bed like that someday. So I took it apart and put the bolts and washers into a bag so the bed can be put back together.
Then today my dad and I went and got paint. It's a green color, I like it. I didn't want to keep the carpet that had been in there, so we took that up too. We got the room painted today and I'm going to mop the floor in the morning.
My dad and I also went and got me a bed. I've been sleeping on a 'built in' bed in the room I'm in now. So we went everywhere today and finally we got one. It's pretty cool. It's used and really nice wood, so we're going to sand it and paint it tomorrow.
So this whole 'moving on' thing is hard but helpful at the same time. I don't want to be disloyal by forgetting her and moving on without her, but I'm beginning to figure out that I'm not forgetting her, I'm carrying her memory and lessons with me and she wouldn't want me to be sad and not enjoy my life. I know she was proud of me and I really miss her a lot, but the pain isn't nearly as bad as it was Saturday morning.
It's going to be a while but I know I'll be ok with it eventually. But I give myself- and others- a break by saying 'it's ok to not be ok, because we'll always miss them but know that they're always with us'.
Praying has taken on a level of oddness though. I never knew anyone in Heaven before and now that I know that someone's up there, talking to God is a strange experience now. I didn't go to Church yesterday. I kinda wanted to spend more 'quiet time' with my family. I think I'll be ready to go next Sunday. I'm not going to go to the food pantry in the morning because we're going to work on my room some more.
I thought it was really nice that Father Rob from St. Matthews sent me a Facebook message saying that Doc and I were missed yesterday. I appreciate that, and I know the folks at Our Saviour were praying for us too.
Thank you everyone.
Think I'll go see what my sister's up to, and since I'm getting sleepy, I'll probably go to sleep, just hope it's earlier than 4 in the morning.
Feel free to leave comments.
Nancy
PS: The pic is of my room so far
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