This afternoon was the celebration of her life. It was a party mom would have loved, except for the fact that she very certainly wasn't there. If she doesn't live here anymore, I wonder where she is. And also, although I was the one who came up with the idea of "celebrating her life" I ended up being a very wet blanket--the kind who cries all the time.
It was the first time I was seeing people outside of family, and every time someone said something kind or I spied a sweet picture of her face on the slideshow, I was a puddle. At one point I was clutching neighbors I hadn't seen decades and sobbing into their shoulder. (They meant to visit dad on Wednesday, but had hurried down to say goodbye to me as I leave at the end of the day and they didn't want to miss me. So although their words were fairly standard--"we all lost a good friend"-- it seemed so fucking poignant in the moment.)
My mom's cousin with whom she had a lot of adventures made me laugh when she said an old (male) colleague of my sister's was a "rugged beauty." We got a lot of mileage out of that for the rest of the afternoon. Another cousin was addressed by a completely different--and made up--name by the security guard, and we all used that name for her for the rest of the afternoon as well. I guess, we all needed to regress/recoup a bit.
Pic: A picture of the celebration a friend shared with me.
7 comments:
I love how matriarchal the formal ceremony sounds.
And I understand very well the need to find some comic relief to break up the intensity and all-consuming nature of grief. I think it's actually a physical/chemical response.
I like the idea of commending her spirit to her mother and grandmother.
I love that she is with her mother and grandmother, and very likely their mothers and grandmothers…
This is beautiful, that she is with her mother and grandmother. Maybe it's ruggedly beautiful? I love how sometimes we just need those little moments of silly in times of deep grief.
Oh my. Having your grandmother accompany your mom on the journey. I love that beyond words. Of course you were a puddle. I know I would be, too. (For many moons after I would break into tears if I ran into someone in the grocery store who said something.) But what a gift to be with your family and with others who loved her.
I love the idea of your mother and her mother and her mother-- it's so comforting and beautiful.
There is something that feels so peaceful about knowing your mom is carried into her next life by her mom and grandma. What a beautiful visual!
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