The Funeral

The days of the showing and funeral are a blur to me.  I remember being very overwhelmed by the number of people who attended.  I remember standing up near the front of the room with my Dad and aunt and uncles.  I remember greeting people as they proceeded through the line at the funeral home.  I remember many people coming up to me and saying, "You must be Patty's daughter, because you look just like her."  I had never been more proud to have someone tell me how much I looked like my Mom.  

I remember looking at my Mom in the casket we picked out and her hair was perfect, but her face sagged drastically on the left side.  She looked like she had been through something much more traumatic that I had imagined.  Her body had been through hell during those days she was in the hospital and the reality of that sunk in as I stared at her lying there. 

I remember lots of hugs, but I don't remember lots of tears.  I think I was so numb and just empty so there were no more tears to shed.  I think I focused on the details of the services instead of what they meant in order to distant myself emotional from what was happening.  I don't remember crying at the funeral, I may have, but it definitely wasn't a lot.  I think I also focused on making my friends who were not catholic comfortable with the services and mass.  For the funeral at St. Francis Church in Poseyville, my dad, sister, brother and I sat in the front row.  Andy and our close friend Sean sat on either side of me.  I remember holding both of their hands during the service.  Sean did not attend church often and had never attended a mass before.  He was nervous about the mass and he was being a pall bearer for the first time.  So I led him through when to sit, stand, and kneel.  It was something for me to focus on other than the fact that my mother was being buried today.   

There were a few hours of showing at the church before the funeral mass and when they were ready to close the casket they let the immediate family step outside of the church.  It was a sunny day and the warm sun felt good as it was cool inside the church.  My brother started crying outside as the reality of what was happening hit him.  I watched Andy and Sean both fight back tears and I remember comforting them.  They did not need my comforting nor did they ask for it, but this is what I did instead of letting myself get emotional. 

I was told while we were outside and that my cousin Lindsey, who was about 5 years old at the time, sobbed loudly when the casket was closed.  My mom was her godmother and watched her regularly.  This little girl loved my mom and my mom adored her and her sister.  This little 5 year old was so wise beyond her years and she experienced this loss all too early in her life.  She did a better job of grieving in those moments and letting herself feel what she felt and expressed it.    As a mother know I have experienced all that you can learn from a child and there was a lot I could have learned from Lindsey in those moments.   

I remember being proud of the words that Sister Leta read on behalf of my sister, brother and I in the eulogy.  I was very touched when I turned around to look at those gathered in the church that day and the pews were packed, the choir loft was packed all with familiar faces.  Our family, our friends, all those that loved my mom. 

After the funeral and burial service my close friends came to the funeral dinner at church and then came back to my house after instead of going back to school for a few hours.  We talked, laughed, and  I continued to let me be distracted from thinking what was truly happening.  I did find comfort in how much my friends were present to support me in those days following my Mom's death.  It was amazing and humbling the love and support I felt from them.   

A Full House and Lots of Plans

We got home on Thursday or Friday I'm not sure which and I believe the showing/funeral was on Monday/Tuesday.  In the days leading up to that our house was filled with people and it was a great distraction.  My friends came over just to hang out.  We didn't necessarily talk much about what had happened.  I'll be honest I don't remember what we talked about, but I remember them being there.  My sister had her friends there as well.  My brother being in 6th grade didn't have anyone at the house with him, so I remember talking to my Dad and he and I figured out who might be comfortable coming over to play and made some phone calls. We got a few of Nathan's friends there as well.   Our house was never the place to hang out.  We each had friends over around our birthday growing up and Nathan had friends over more frequently but never would a group gather at our house.  It wasn't normal, but during this time it was perfect.  I think our friends didn't know how to help but being with us just playing and hanging out was helping a lot.  Our house at this time was not filled with tears and sadness, but with laughter and the sharing of memories.  It was just what we needed. 

I remember Mrs. Palmer, our band director, and some other band boosters coming over and bringing bags of chips and food to help feed everyone now gathering at our house.  I remember someone anonymously had 10 pizzas delivered to house one evening for supper.  I knew we were a family with many wonderful friends and family, but I remember being amazed at the love and support we were being shown.   

Andy got home a day later than we did and he came over straight from the airport.  His Dad and a friend Dub were with him.  I remember it being dark and I met Andy on the patio outside.  We just hugged and cried and I don't remember what if anything that was said.  It was late and he didn't stay but he came over even if just for a few minutes.  I was touched that his dad and friend and driven out of the way to bring him over and I was glad Andy was home.   

My dad was great about allowing the three of us to help plan Mom's funeral as much as we could.  I remember we picked out a casket that was teal and had gold sea shell like decorations on it where it connected to the handles.  It reminded me of the beach and ocean and since she had died in Florida it seemed very fitting.  Sister Leta came over to help us plan the mass.  My dad was not Catholic so he didn't have any real strong feelings for this part except he wanted the priest that had married them to be present if possible.  Sister Leta made it happen.  Dena and I chose our friends Holly and Jamie to do the readings.  We also picked the songs, I remember that Gentle Woman was one of the songs sung and I still get emotional every time I hear this song at church.  The pall bearers were a combination of friends and family.  My friend Sean was able to do it, my cousin Justin, our family friend Frank, as well as some of Mom's cousins and Dad's friends.  It felt very right have those so close to us involved in Mom's funeral, it was very comforting. 

We also had to get Mom ready.   I remember talking with my aunt Beth about what Mom would want to wear and she helped us pick out the right outfit and jewelry.  We picked her fanciest dress that she had worn to her brother's wedding.  Mom had part of her head shaved and my Dad wanted to make sure the wig and everything was styled just like mom would have had it.  So he asked my aunt Nancy, who was a hairdresser to help with this part.   

I wrote a eulogy which was sort of like a letter from myself, Dena, and Nathan to our mother.  I remember sitting on my bed with my friend Jenni and she helped me pick just the right words. I have searched and searched for this eulogy over the last few weeks and have not been able to find it.  I would love to read it and remember what we said as our final goodbye.   

From my perspective now, I just notice how much we were asking of all of these people.  We were asking teenagers to perform roles in funerals when some of them may have never even been to a funeral.  I was asking my friends to help me write one of the most personal things I would ever write.  We had asked my aunt to help with my mom's hair.  How far outside of the comfort zone were we asking these people to go!  At the time I looked at it as our way of showing these people how much they meant to us and how much we trusted them.  At the time I think we were so far out of our comfort zone that we didn't even think about what we were asking.  I will say that although these individuals might have been pretty nervous and very uncomfortable with what was being asked of them, they each rose to the occasion and were able to provide just what we needed.  A funeral is never something anyone wants to plan or attend, but I saw this as one of my last ways to make sure that my mom's final farewell was a reflection of the classy, graceful, beautiful, generous, compassionate woman that we all saw and loved.  Our friends and family were there for us in every way we needed and it meant more than any of them could realize.

You want me to do laundry how?

This is where my journal entries to Andy stop, because I was home now.  Before I had left for our trip Andy had given me a couple of roses with a card that said "Have a great trip!".  My aunt had gone in to our house to make sure it was ready for us to return and had watered my roses and they were still looking perfect.  I remember that meaning the world to me at the time. I found the card from these flowers last week, in a box of keepsakes, it brought tears to my eyes 20 years later.  

My Dad's side of the family was there to meet us when we got home and my aunt Gayle started teaching my sister and I how to do laundry right away.  My mom had taught me many things, but she also had taken care of lots of things for me.  I didn't have assigned chores growing up and I was always told that as long as I stayed busy with activities I didn't have to get a job.  My mom had always said, I had my whole life to work so I should just wait to start until I had too.  I had babysitting jobs growing up but nothing regular.  I assume looking back that my mom had many chores growing up on her family dairy farm and maybe she felt those chores kept her from doing things she had wanted.  I have no idea if this is true or not, but it's possible.  I always assumed that's why she took care of so much of these things for us instead of spreading out the work. 

I had no idea how to do laundry, and unbeknownst to me, my Mom did the laundry the hard way.  She listened and knew when in the cycle to go in and add the liquid softener and she dried everything on the clothes line and ironed it all.  My mom was a stay at home mom who sold Mary Kay, cleaned our dance studio, cleaned for her father once a week, and babysat my cousins a few days a week. So she was a busy woman and I will tell you that I frequently remember our clean clothes piled in baskets in the dining room.   I would yell down from upstairs each morning what I wanted to wear and she would iron it in time for me to go to school.  My mom didn't keep a perfect house.  Dishes were frequently sitting on the counter.  We didn't live in filth mind you, everything was clean just not always put away.  But I also never remember my Mom not being available to talk, help me with something, or even just to sit and watch TV with me.  She didn't let her chores/duties keep her from spending time with us.  I loved that about her.   

I had been home maybe a few hours and now the fact that the housekeeping duties were now going to fall to my Dad and the three of us was becoming very real.  My aunt explained that I needed to start using a Downey ball for the softener and I needed to dry the clothes in the dryer so they wouldn't need to be ironed.  Well, I felt bad about doing it differently.  I felt like I was saying to my Mom that her way was not right. I was not comfortable with that, but I also understood that the four of us were all going to be at work and school and we were going to have to find a faster way, so this was going to be it.  It didn't remove the guilt I felt though for changing it up.  Looking back it seems silly that I would feel guilt regarding how I did the laundry, but at the time I just felt everything so much deeper than I ever had before and in the weeks and months to come I just craved normalcy, even in the most simple things.  I wanted my jeans to be stiff and smell of outside just so that they felt "normal".  

On a side note, my boys are 6 and 7 years old and they have laundry duties many weekends.  They have been taught how to sort it, load it into the washer, move it to the dryer, add a dryer sheet, and start the dryer.  They aren't allowed to add detergent and they don't fold or put it away yet, but they will get there. I do this because one day they may be faced with this responsibility and I feel like doing it now will make it not seem so different for them.  I also believe it will make them better husbands, because I love it when Andy helps with the laundry.   I realize this seems silly and if my guys are ever faced to live without me knowing how to do laundry won't really make things seem normal, but it makes me feel like I'm doing all I can do to prepare them in even the smallest of ways.