I wasn't really sure what to title this post...I just know I have a lot of feelings I am completely unsure of at the moment and some I am very sure of, but don't know or really want to express.
The funeral, done solely by my Sister, turned out great. I was expecting maybe 10 people total, and 25 showed up. Family I hadn't seen in 10 years and some I hadn't seen in 5 years or so because of other circumstances. My sister began the eulogy and I spoke next, I remember my favorite second cousin speaking, my soon to be sister in law, even my Mother in law who barely knew my Mother spoke. My Fathers portion was smaller than I expected, but very heartfelt nonetheless. Thomas and I were expecting him to have another episode, but he barely shed any tears, so I think he is going to be ok. My daughter spoke and we all left her carnations on the plot where she was buried. The headstone is not yet finished, but we still felt as though it was right to do what we did. My aunt started talking about it today and I had to cut her off, because I started crying. I feel like if I don't talk about it, or think about it, I will be ok. I did go see a grief counselor through hospice on Thursday and it seemed as though that helped. I had a fully dry day Friday of no crying. The first since she passed.
I do feel as though in her own way, she is still with us. She blew a cool breeze on us during the service, and today, my aunt, Thomas, the kids and I would have lost our lives on the highway if not for Thomas' instinct.
I miss her dearly, and I keep picturing her on that last day of her life, so happy. I see her sitting in her chair, with her puppy and talking to me. I'm thankful that I have the images of her happy while she was alive. But the images of her death still haunt me. I can only chalk that up to the fact that I was so close to her.
Mom, if you're listening, I love you. I hope you're happy wherever you are. Please don't ever forget us.
The funeral gave me and my Father, I'm sure, the closure needed to move on. I will find out just how much it has helped or not helped tonight, when I sleep in my own bed, in the house my Mother once lived in when I cared for her. I walk into the house and feel that pang of pain when I see where she sat, and sleep in the room where she slept. Is that odd? I don't know.
There are many more feelings I have, but at this time, I just can't put them to words in a blog. Maybe tomorrow? Maybe once they are all sorted? We'll see.