The Day After the Day. The surreal sense of things is still present, brought on by things mostly outside of my control.
The notifications are mostly done. I had to call my oldest and youngest (Nighean Gheal and Nighean Dhonn) as they are both out of town. An awkward thing, especially for someone like myself who is not good at discussing my emotions at the best of times. It is always a hard conversation, some version of "Hi, how are you, I have not the great news....". Not a surprise to them either, but not any easier because of that.
I have being stalling on The Great Social Media post until we had a funeral date, which we now do - the middle of May if you are in the neighborhood of the continental U.S. (offer not good in Alaska and Hawai'i). For someone that writes as much as I do, you would think this would not create quite an issue. It does, though - both because of the fact that it is (hopefully, and possibly in all likelihood) the last one of these I will have to write for a long time (if ever), and partially because it will be seen by a lot of people that may have a lot of questions I do not have the answer to, like "What did she die from?" or "What happens to The Ranch?" or even just "How are you doing?"
Unfortunately, I have no idea how I am doing, well meaning person that is asking. You and I both have the same question and concern.
For better or worse (mostly worse) outside of family, there are not many people left to contact - my parents have the same issue many of their generation has of having outlived most of the their peers and interest groups. One call to their former church, one call to a colleague of my mother's - and that is that. Likely the funeral service will be even smaller than my father's. In 1.5 years, that seems like an ominous reduction of people.
Although given that I am moving soon anyway I had not initially planned to there again for a bit, but due to this event, I am headed back out the week of 10 March - mostly to go with my sister and meet with the lawyer and see what the next steps are in settling the estate. While I do not have a lot of discomfort about this - we must be on some kind of timetable, but not a "We need to get it down right now" timeframe - it still makes me unsettled. This is yet another change in a year which is already bustling with them, and brings to mind a new round of financial planning and repairs and "well, maybe I do not have to pack everything up" that I find myself suddenly unable to deal with all at once.
And a funeral speech, of course. I will have to write one of those - again, hopefully, the last one that I will have write in a very long time, perhaps forever. Fortunately I have two months.
Knowing me, it will likely take that entire time to write.
"You shall know a tree by its fruits"
ReplyDeleteI would say your mom (and dad) were awesome people who lived magnificient lives. From what I can see, they knocked the ball out of the park raising you and your sister.
Not that YOU can say that in an obituary.
Thank you Anon.
DeleteThey were awesome people and great models that did live magnificent lives and (I think) got to do most of what they had wanted or dreamed of doing; the last few years were an unfortunate coda to all of that. One likes to believe that my sister and I manifest some aspects of that (more my sister than myself of course; I am always a work in progress).
One day at a time sir. I know that feeling to ''Time Standing Still', it is very surreal. When my Mom passed in 2018 (has it already been 6 years ?), there were four surviving siblings along with their spouse. All of them are in their young to mid 80's so anyone's time can be soon.
ReplyDeleteThanks for the reminder. I have to remind myself even more of that, given the upcoming move.
DeleteIn reality, anyone's time can come soon. I am reaching the age where that will start happening all too soon.
Obit is to honor the dead and comfort the living.
ReplyDeleteI've done far too many of them, they hurt. Mine were short and sweet as so I'd be able to finish them before I choked.
Medics all too often comfort the dying and their survivors.
You'll do an honorable job at it friend, of that I have no doubt.
Michael, for whatever reason I have able to be relatively dispassionate when delivering obituaries for family. I have done my maternal grandparents and my father's, and now mom's. I am not sure why this is; some emotional failing in me, no doubt.
DeletePerhaps unsurprisingly, I already started writing it in my head last night at Produce (A)Isle. Or at least outlining it.
Found this just now:
ReplyDeleteFinally, to close this post out, at the funeral which we attended, the officiant asked the 40 of us attending whom among us had eaten our neighbor's chocolate chip cookies. Everyone there that I saw raised their hand.
No finer obit closing I can think of. That neighbor was remembered as a sweet old lady that brought cookies.
Michael, I saw that as well. If that was the only thing that could be said of a person, it would still be honourable.
DeleteMichael's short and sweet rings true TB, couldn't trust myself to talk at either of my parent's services and the number attending was small considering the ages and distances to be traveled. Perhaps thinking about what you want to say at the service in the morning when you're fresh and rested?
ReplyDeleteAh, you know me Nylon12 - I have already started drafting out sections in my mind. Or maybe I am just starting on a project which in the back of my mind has been going on for some years now.
DeleteI guess after mom died, the questions were always how was my dad doing, not about me. I think it would be much harder to express how I was doing after losing the last parent. You have my sympathies and continued prayers.
ReplyDeleteThanks Ed.
DeleteEveryone means well by the asking of the question. I guess it is weird to think of us being in the position of "the survivors", yet that is how it sits.
When I stood up to speak at my mother's service, my wife asked my plans in a whisper.
ReplyDeleteI told her I would both make the audience laugh and make them cry.
That was a good remembrance for my mother.
It's still a tough time, and it becomes tougher is some ways when the immediate support of family and friends ebbs back to normal.
Do the best you can.
John, that is not a bad goal. Certainly any good speech of any nature contains both; even more we should strive to do so in the last speech on a relative.
DeleteThe one unknown to me at this point is really the relationship with our family overall as we go forward. To date, my trips back to see my mother and take care of The Ranch gave a certain structure and regularity to our interactions that had been missing in years before with my sister and I in separate places (and, of course, the fact we each had families and lives, etc.). With my mother's passing, the relationship enters a different phase.
Parents were Catholic and had plots, caskets, funeral mass, luncheon after all bought and paid for. They even paid for their own flora arrangements. As at the time when nobody but the priest spoke I didn't have that worry. With that I have no worry with your love of words you will make her proud.
ReplyDeleteWow, that was incredibly organized of your parents. We are not quite there, but it will be relatively straightforward for us as well.
DeleteYou've had a lot to process recently, and it's all been pretty demanding. I hope sharing it with us eases some of the burden. We're all on your side!
ReplyDeleteThanks Leigh. I really think it is helping me (although I do worry I am probably dithering on endlessly). I seem to process my feelings by writing - I am grateful I at least have that as a medium to sort these things out.
DeleteTake each day at a time. Some days start out on one path suddenly change, just like any other day, but a little more on a personal basis. We're here for you and your family... even if we just listen, share experiences or shed a tear or two with you. Lifting you all up in prayer.
ReplyDeleteyour friend...
~hobo
Thanks Hobo.
Delete"Some days start out on one path suddenly change"...see today's post. Literally February was the most eventful year ever.