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.