You can tell the sun in his jealous sky, when we walked in fields of gold.
I lost my grandpa back in 8th grade and, yes, it was hard, but not as hard. He had been sick for years and years, even once been clinically dead for 5 minutes and when he died, he had been checked into a hospital for almost a month. So we knew it was coming, I was prepared for it. Even if I failed at life and didn't take my last chance to say goodbye to him.
This I wasn't ready for and because my grandma and I were so close, (mother and daughter relationship) I'm never gonna accept the fact that she is gone. That I just can't run to her when I need help anymore. She took a whole portion of my life away. It's like...when you leave childhood behind at least you still have the people and things that affected how your childhood went to carry along to the next era of your life. It almost gives you this false sense of hope that you can get back your childhood by keeping these things. It keeps you closer to what you've just grown out of. But when the people disappear and die and the things that mean a lot to you are in danger of being taken away too, you lose that hope and you lose that closeness to the good times, to the years that will make you who you are in the future. This is what I've lost. Not to mention her love, her smile, her memories, her voice, her hugs and kisses, her lectures, her love of taking spur of the moment adventures, her selflessness. I miss it all so much.
We had a wake for her on Sunday night, which wasn't so hard because I had already seen her after she had past, and I actually much rather preferred the version of her lying in the hospital than her lying in the casket. She looked so much more like my Omi in the hospital.. I cried...but it still didn't seem official yet that we were having a funeral for her.
Then today, Monday we had the actual service at St. John Eudes in Chatsworth...and that...that was something I'll never get over. The Catholics (I'm not Catholic but she was) bless the casket outside of the church in the entrance hall with the family members and pall bearers after everyone has arrived and is sitting in the church waiting for us to come in. Right before the priest blessed the casket they had us grandchildren fold the blanket and set it over her lap...close in the overlap...and then my mom, aunt, two cousins, siblings, and I all reached up and pulled down the casket top to close it for the last time.
That's when it became real. That's when I realized I was never going to look at her human body form in person ever again. And that's when the tears started flowing. Which, wasn't very good at all, because Catholics have you follow the casket down the middle row all the way up from the back of the church to the front, so I was a lovely mess of tears and sniffing for everyone to see going up. I was sitting diagonally from the casket in the front row and had a wonderful view of where her head would be inside and right behind that a huge blown up recent picture of her. Throughout the whole service I had to focus straight ahead and make sure not to look over to my left.
I was the leader of the Intercession, or prayer, so before it was time for me to go up, I was scrambling for a tissue so I wouldn't be sniffing every five seconds that I was up there. How it went was I said a verse of the prayer, than "We pray to the Lord." and everyone responds back, "Lord hear our prayer." After the second verse I had the "Lord hear our prayer." part still reverberating in my head and so I made the mistake of saying that, after the verse instead of my "We pray to the Lord." part. I fixed it, Christa laughed out loud in the front row, everyone responded back with their "We pray to the Lord." and then I returned back to read off the next verse. I was so flustered though, that I had to pause for a long moment because I couldn't remember where I had stopped, and with the mistake I had just made, I didn't want to make any more. I don't think I repeated myself though. My mom got up with my aunt and read the eulogy that my mom had written at 3 in the morning. (She's where I get my great knack for getting out all of my creative writing skills in the middle of the night)
I realized while they were up there reading that all throughout my years of school, anytime I needed someone to interview with an interesting life or had to write a biography on someone, I had always chosen my Omi. I had always asked her the questions about her life. Who can fill this position now?
"Fields Of Gold" by Eva Cassidy started up and next thing I know we're following my grandma out with that song playing. She loved Eva Cassidy. She loved that song even more.
After all of this there was of course the last goodbye at the cemetery and the reception, but what really started me thinking for the rest of the day was seeing people just after the service had ended and right before everyone started leaving or heading over to the next stop. First off..the amount of love and support in the air was just so very very high. It was toxic and consuming. I don't think I have ever felt that much of it all at once before and I doubt I ever will again. Second off...I came to appreciate a lot of people so much today. I looked around at all of the adult figures there and there was not one that I was not proud of. Not one. I consider myself the luckiest person in the world to have these people to look up to and these people to guide me in life and set their examples on. They are the only people that I want to have any part in forming the person I am becoming and going to become.
From my strong mother and aunt and perfect two cousins and siblings. To my dad's older sister who overcame past horrible feuds with my mom to be there and gave my mom the tightest hand squeeze I have ever seen. For my step-grandma who disregarded the way my grandma had treated her and came any ways in her what I call, "Jackie O glasses" but what she says are her "Helen Keller shades" to be there for us. Even for Dave and Wally and Brenda, people from my church who had never ever been treated kindly by my grandma at all and who are totally against the Catholic religion, but, again, disgregarded this fact, and still came. They came and said the strongest most supportive words to me in the whole day. Had it not been somebody's surprise birthday party at that very time, more from my church would have come, but all I needed were those three, especially Wally and Dave. Those two I have always looked up to as fatherly icons. They've raised me probably as much as my father has.
Right now I'm still having problems. I feel like I'm the one you'll see standing in the middle of a crowd with people running around every where and if you were to stop and ask me to tell you everything that I am thinking at that very moment I don't think I could tell you. There is way too much. And way too many tears would start flowing. After church on Sunday we were on our way to Target and passing by Robinsons May where Omi worked in the Northridge Mall. I remembered times in the past when we had driven down this very street and came up with the spur of the moment idea to go and visit her while she was working. So, naturally, by habit, as we were driving by, I started to ask my mom if we could stop and visit her. Had my mom not stopped me in mid-sentence to say something she wanted to say, I would have gotten the full question out without realizing what I was doing. I can admit that I broke out into tears right there on the spot after I realized what I was doing.
Fields of Gold
By Eva Cassidy
Oh oh oh
You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
So she took her love for to gaze a while
Among the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold
Will you stay with me will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
And you can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
There have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We’ll walk in fields of gold
We’ll walk in fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
There have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We’ll walk in fields of gold
We’ll walk in fields of gold
Oh oh oh
Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
As you lie in fields of gold
You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
Oh oh oh
Lydda came, along with the best tasting cookies ever.
I love her so so so much.
<3
Also there today was a family that's grown up with my mom and aunt. The grandmother, Gloria, is the original owner of a house down the street and her three children, Mark, Karen, and David Saltzman, all grew up and are best friends with my mom and aunt. Take in mind, the Saltzman family is Jewish...
"Did you see when David and Karen and Gloria got up to the priest to take communion? Gloria was really confused and didn't realize what was going on and the priest began to hand her the communion host, but she still was really confused and was just going on with what everyone else was doing. Finally the priest asked her if she was Catholic and she replied that she was Jewish, so the priest snatched the communion host away, blessed her quickly, and sent her on her way. Karen right behind Gloria had the same problem, but David came up behind Karen and took the offered communion host and blessing without any hesitation. After they sat back down Gloria gave him the most hilarious 'WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING??!?!' face."-Robert, another family friend, in the car ride over to the cemetery
"That cookie, cracker thing that the Rabbi gave me was kind of strange. It stuck to the top of my mouth."-David later on at the reception
Yes, I do believe that I can say with pride that I have the most perfect adult figures in the world present in my life.
This I wasn't ready for and because my grandma and I were so close, (mother and daughter relationship) I'm never gonna accept the fact that she is gone. That I just can't run to her when I need help anymore. She took a whole portion of my life away. It's like...when you leave childhood behind at least you still have the people and things that affected how your childhood went to carry along to the next era of your life. It almost gives you this false sense of hope that you can get back your childhood by keeping these things. It keeps you closer to what you've just grown out of. But when the people disappear and die and the things that mean a lot to you are in danger of being taken away too, you lose that hope and you lose that closeness to the good times, to the years that will make you who you are in the future. This is what I've lost. Not to mention her love, her smile, her memories, her voice, her hugs and kisses, her lectures, her love of taking spur of the moment adventures, her selflessness. I miss it all so much.
We had a wake for her on Sunday night, which wasn't so hard because I had already seen her after she had past, and I actually much rather preferred the version of her lying in the hospital than her lying in the casket. She looked so much more like my Omi in the hospital.. I cried...but it still didn't seem official yet that we were having a funeral for her.
Then today, Monday we had the actual service at St. John Eudes in Chatsworth...and that...that was something I'll never get over. The Catholics (I'm not Catholic but she was) bless the casket outside of the church in the entrance hall with the family members and pall bearers after everyone has arrived and is sitting in the church waiting for us to come in. Right before the priest blessed the casket they had us grandchildren fold the blanket and set it over her lap...close in the overlap...and then my mom, aunt, two cousins, siblings, and I all reached up and pulled down the casket top to close it for the last time.
That's when it became real. That's when I realized I was never going to look at her human body form in person ever again. And that's when the tears started flowing. Which, wasn't very good at all, because Catholics have you follow the casket down the middle row all the way up from the back of the church to the front, so I was a lovely mess of tears and sniffing for everyone to see going up. I was sitting diagonally from the casket in the front row and had a wonderful view of where her head would be inside and right behind that a huge blown up recent picture of her. Throughout the whole service I had to focus straight ahead and make sure not to look over to my left.
I was the leader of the Intercession, or prayer, so before it was time for me to go up, I was scrambling for a tissue so I wouldn't be sniffing every five seconds that I was up there. How it went was I said a verse of the prayer, than "We pray to the Lord." and everyone responds back, "Lord hear our prayer." After the second verse I had the "Lord hear our prayer." part still reverberating in my head and so I made the mistake of saying that, after the verse instead of my "We pray to the Lord." part. I fixed it, Christa laughed out loud in the front row, everyone responded back with their "We pray to the Lord." and then I returned back to read off the next verse. I was so flustered though, that I had to pause for a long moment because I couldn't remember where I had stopped, and with the mistake I had just made, I didn't want to make any more. I don't think I repeated myself though. My mom got up with my aunt and read the eulogy that my mom had written at 3 in the morning. (She's where I get my great knack for getting out all of my creative writing skills in the middle of the night)
I realized while they were up there reading that all throughout my years of school, anytime I needed someone to interview with an interesting life or had to write a biography on someone, I had always chosen my Omi. I had always asked her the questions about her life. Who can fill this position now?
"Fields Of Gold" by Eva Cassidy started up and next thing I know we're following my grandma out with that song playing. She loved Eva Cassidy. She loved that song even more.
After all of this there was of course the last goodbye at the cemetery and the reception, but what really started me thinking for the rest of the day was seeing people just after the service had ended and right before everyone started leaving or heading over to the next stop. First off..the amount of love and support in the air was just so very very high. It was toxic and consuming. I don't think I have ever felt that much of it all at once before and I doubt I ever will again. Second off...I came to appreciate a lot of people so much today. I looked around at all of the adult figures there and there was not one that I was not proud of. Not one. I consider myself the luckiest person in the world to have these people to look up to and these people to guide me in life and set their examples on. They are the only people that I want to have any part in forming the person I am becoming and going to become.
From my strong mother and aunt and perfect two cousins and siblings. To my dad's older sister who overcame past horrible feuds with my mom to be there and gave my mom the tightest hand squeeze I have ever seen. For my step-grandma who disregarded the way my grandma had treated her and came any ways in her what I call, "Jackie O glasses" but what she says are her "Helen Keller shades" to be there for us. Even for Dave and Wally and Brenda, people from my church who had never ever been treated kindly by my grandma at all and who are totally against the Catholic religion, but, again, disgregarded this fact, and still came. They came and said the strongest most supportive words to me in the whole day. Had it not been somebody's surprise birthday party at that very time, more from my church would have come, but all I needed were those three, especially Wally and Dave. Those two I have always looked up to as fatherly icons. They've raised me probably as much as my father has.
Right now I'm still having problems. I feel like I'm the one you'll see standing in the middle of a crowd with people running around every where and if you were to stop and ask me to tell you everything that I am thinking at that very moment I don't think I could tell you. There is way too much. And way too many tears would start flowing. After church on Sunday we were on our way to Target and passing by Robinsons May where Omi worked in the Northridge Mall. I remembered times in the past when we had driven down this very street and came up with the spur of the moment idea to go and visit her while she was working. So, naturally, by habit, as we were driving by, I started to ask my mom if we could stop and visit her. Had my mom not stopped me in mid-sentence to say something she wanted to say, I would have gotten the full question out without realizing what I was doing. I can admit that I broke out into tears right there on the spot after I realized what I was doing.
Fields of Gold
By Eva Cassidy
Oh oh oh
You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
So she took her love for to gaze a while
Among the fields of barley
In his arms she fell as her hair came down
Among the fields of gold
Will you stay with me will you be my love
Among the fields of barley
And you can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
There have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We’ll walk in fields of gold
We’ll walk in fields of gold
I never made promises lightly
There have been some that I’ve broken
But I swear in the days still left
We’ll walk in fields of gold
We’ll walk in fields of gold
Oh oh oh
Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
As you lie in fields of gold
You’ll remember me when the west wind moves
Among the fields of barley
You can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
When we walked in fields of gold
Oh oh oh
Lydda came, along with the best tasting cookies ever.
I love her so so so much.
<3
Also there today was a family that's grown up with my mom and aunt. The grandmother, Gloria, is the original owner of a house down the street and her three children, Mark, Karen, and David Saltzman, all grew up and are best friends with my mom and aunt. Take in mind, the Saltzman family is Jewish...
"Did you see when David and Karen and Gloria got up to the priest to take communion? Gloria was really confused and didn't realize what was going on and the priest began to hand her the communion host, but she still was really confused and was just going on with what everyone else was doing. Finally the priest asked her if she was Catholic and she replied that she was Jewish, so the priest snatched the communion host away, blessed her quickly, and sent her on her way. Karen right behind Gloria had the same problem, but David came up behind Karen and took the offered communion host and blessing without any hesitation. After they sat back down Gloria gave him the most hilarious 'WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING??!?!' face."-Robert, another family friend, in the car ride over to the cemetery
"That cookie, cracker thing that the Rabbi gave me was kind of strange. It stuck to the top of my mouth."-David later on at the reception
Yes, I do believe that I can say with pride that I have the most perfect adult figures in the world present in my life.