Fragments from a Funeral

Despite fearing that a second post including death reflections might result in the death of this blog, I simply must carry on with what's currently swirling in my being.

I am at the end of a two-day emotional journey of taking the necessary steps to say farewell to a life.  It's like I have been sucked into some alternate reality and tomorrow when I wake up, I think I'll start to re-engage with normal life.  Kind of.  

My heart and soul are bleary and exhausted from the process but I also feel quite centered actually.  Oh you know, with all of those cliche thoughts of "now I know what's really important in life" and all of that good stuff.  But you know, I'll take it.  I'm there.

The near all-day viewing of the body on Tuesday was inspiring.  It all went down just as it should have.  With tears and laughter and stories and impromptu eulogies and lotsa food (especially good brownies) and meaningful embraces.  (I simply despise wimpy hugs and it seems that funerals bring out the best in people's hugging abilities.)

The kids were stellar and so in the moment, I just had to sit back and smile at the scene. CR and The Love Fairy and her cousins and second cousins made plenty of trips to the desert tray and did enough inappropriate running and squealing that I knew my aunt would have been proud.    

The Love Fairy had expressed to me before that she probably didn't want to see the body but before I knew it, a conversation between the girlies and their cousins was started and I was lucky to start eavesdropping mid-stream:

CR (my oldest age 6 1/2):  She's wearing a wig.

Second Cousin (age 5):  No, she's not.

CR:  Yes, she is.  And she's bald underneath.

Second Cousin:  No, she's not bald.

CR:  Yes, she is and she's wearing a wig.

Second Cousin: Let's go see.

CR: Yeah, let's go check it out.

CR, Second Cousin, The Love Fairy (age 4) and Cousin (age 3) all run up to the casket, jump up on the kneeler and start analyzing my aunt's hair.  Four little girls who are not at all freaked out by the fact that there is a dead body in front of them, but instead are just a little concerned that the hair looks strange.  So girl, right?

As the hair analysis went on, both Second Cousin and Cousin touched my aunt A LOT. CR and The Love Fairy chose not to but they did get the general idea of what it might have been like when Second Cousin reported that "she feels hard."   The cousins stroked her fingertips, felt her fingernails and caressed her forearms.  

After deciding that it sure did look like a wig, CR and the Second Cousin dropped to their knees and decided to pray.  The two Catholic school girls did the sign of the cross and then proceeded to do a Hail Mary, then the Our Father and then....one more Hail Mary. And that was just about right.  

My soul welled with that scene but I could only stand behind them smiling with tears in my eyes.

That night when I was putting CR to bed, she looked me square in the eyes and straight to my soul and she said, "I'm glad you're alive Mommy."

"I'm glad too,"  I replied.

"I mean, you're only 41.  A lot of numbers have to go by before you die." 

I certainly hope so, my sweet CR.  I certainly hope so. 

'Cause I'm not done yet.

I got a lot of supermom stuff left to do.

Death Musings

Oh yeah.  

I got you all psyched with that title, I know it.  

You're cruising around blogtown with your snazzy little handbag and colorful scarf feeling all breezy and cool and all "Hi, how's it going?" and stopping by all of your very closest cyber-friends' places to get a little chuckle and leave a hello and maybe find some little gem along the sidewalk and then...

SLAM!

You're not sure whether you should stop or maybe just pass for today...yeah, why don't you? Just go ahead and click away if you're in no mood.  It's cool.  I feel ya.  I'm not one who likes to be a buzz-kill or anything. 

But if you're just a little bit curious or maybe just feeling a little generous today...

...come on in.

I know it's a little dark in here.  But not pitch dark - there's a few warm candles burning and the couch is still all comfy and welcoming so have a seat. 

So yeah, I got some death thoughts swirling.  I guess that happens when someone you love dies, right? 

I think it should be mandatory for anyone grieving to take a night drive through the desert. The splattering blur of constellations across yes, a pitch pitch black black desert sky, does something for the soul that is well, transcendent. 

I took the same drive just a year ago when my grandma (THE original mom without a blog) died and I felt the same way as I did last night. The souls of the recently departed are all fresh and still searching for their place I think and in the quiet black of that desert starry sky, they speak to me. And it's comforting.

My brain crunches hard on what happens the instant you leave this world and start your journey to the next.   It's not a scary thought for me - just an extremely intriguing one.  

I spoke to my aunt less than five days before she died and it simply trips me out to think I won't hear her voice anymore.  I mean, I'll hear it...it just won't sound the same.

Tonight I sit with my three kiddos finally snoozing and I prepare for the next two days of the formal goodbye.  Tomorrow we will head to one of those fascinating funeral homes where we will hang all day with the body that housed the soul of my aunt.  We'll cry, we'll laugh, we'll tell stories, we'll chase the kids around telling them to be quiet but everyone will be relieved by the distraction of them, we'll eat and eat some more because that would make my aunt happy, we'll pray, we'll do what you do when you take some time to contemplate a life.

I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was 5 years old when my mom's mom died and the viewing of the body was quite a scene.  It was my first look at a real dead person.  I remember both my mom and my dad crying and hugging in front of the coffin - my little 5-year-old brain looking up at them and feeling a little freaked that my dad was crying.  I had never seen that one before.  

My older brother (just 15 months older) encouraged me to touch my grandma's hand.  I did.  It felt hard and cold and that memory has kept me from wanting to touch any more dead people. I prefer to remember the touch filled with warmth and life so I'll forgo any touching tomorrow.  For sure.

Now that I'm the mother - the one guiding my kids' experience when it comes to death and saying goodbye - it puts a different spin on things.  I am thankful my parents were believers in dealing with the pain of goodbyes in a honest, upfront way.   They never acted like death or saying goodbye was anything less than just a part of living.   And with the death of my grandmother a year ago, and now my aunt, my girls at ages 6 1/2 and 4 1/2 have a chance to remember how the concept of death was made real to them.   

And that concept will include hanging out with a body in a coffin all day long, playing with their cousins, eating treats, seeing their mama cry, seeing their grandparents cry, seeing their aunts and uncles cry, finding some cool hide-and-seek spots around the funeral home I'm sure, and maybe, just maybe, it will include touching a dead body.  

Not that I will encourage it, that's for damn sure.

So if you've stuck around this long, any thoughts on kids viewing or touching a dead person?