Death
Well the post is kind of late, because it has taken me awhile to realize what all was going on in my head. I am still not quite sure exactly how I feel, but at least now I feel like I have started to be part of the world again. Although I still have a strangely disconnected feeling when I am talking to people about everything.
My mom died on the 16th of September at 1:26am. When the hospice called me and told me I think I was in shock even though she had been sick for 3 months. I went through the motions of calling the funeral home and contacting my brother, who was at the bar with friends. Then I picked up Gunther and hugged him.
All day Saturday was spent forcing my brother to purchase a dress outfit for the viewing and funeral, and going to the funeral home to make all the arrangements. Sunday I went to church, then my friend Marcy and her boyfriend came up to visit. All this time I was trying to think of how to tell Winnie that her "mammaw" wasn't here anymore.
I talked to her dad on Sunday night, and we decided not to tell her until Monday night because he wanted her to go to school on Monday. Big mistake and I should never have listened to him, because her teacher came in Monday morning and said "Awww Winnie I am so sorry to hear your Grandma died". Of course she started to cry and I had to pick her up from school anyway.
Tuesday was the viewing. I truly hate viewing. I didn't know whether to cry or just stand there while what felt like strange accident onlookers moved past in a steady flow. You know like when there is an accident on the highway and traffic just goes by really slow and everyone has to look as they go on. Some of the people there I had never even met before. Apparently they knew her from high school. Hmmmmm so that is what we can all expect people we probably only briefly speak to every 10 years at reunions showing up at our viewing to confuse our children.
Wednesday was the actual funeral service which I had grave side because it seemed strange to me that people always feel it necessary to parade through town when they could have just had the minister meet them all at the cemetery and done it all at once. Why prolong the whole experience. By this point Winnie had had enough. She had been crying now for almost 3 days, and she had reverted to sleeping with me at night. I just needed all of it to be over.
Thursday I had to go to the lawyers office to go over her estate, and I had to contact the insurance company to deal with the life insurance policies. She also had stocks I needed to try to figure out what to do with because she had no last will and testiment.
Finally on Friday when Winnie went back to school and I had time that I felt I could breath, it dawned on me that my mom was really gone. I couldn't visit her, talk to her, cry to her, hug her, kiss her, or anything else anymore. I laid down on my couch and I cried. I cried for a good long time. I realized though that I was crying because I felt sorry for myself. I was upset because I wanted to know who I was going to talk to now. I wasn't crying because of my families loss or because Winnie only got to know her for 8 years, but because I still thought she had to be there for me.
I had her for 29 years and I was upset because she left me. Hell she had only had her own mother for 19 years. I guess I am lucky I had for for as long as I did. I am still angry though. I miss her even though she was sick she was still there. She didn't always have answers anymore but I could still tell her everything. I loved her even though I argued with her sometimes.
Now when my heart is broken, I don't feel good, I want to complain about my crappy man choices, and sit and drink tea and talk about old family stories, who will I do it with. Like when my grandfather road a tricycle and I put on my ballet outfit and danced through the living room to the clapping and bravos of my grandparents and my mother. They are all gone, and I feel alone, sad, and angry.
I guess this is all I can say right now. When does all the crying stop? Now that I have started I just can't seem to stop.
My mom died on the 16th of September at 1:26am. When the hospice called me and told me I think I was in shock even though she had been sick for 3 months. I went through the motions of calling the funeral home and contacting my brother, who was at the bar with friends. Then I picked up Gunther and hugged him.
All day Saturday was spent forcing my brother to purchase a dress outfit for the viewing and funeral, and going to the funeral home to make all the arrangements. Sunday I went to church, then my friend Marcy and her boyfriend came up to visit. All this time I was trying to think of how to tell Winnie that her "mammaw" wasn't here anymore.
I talked to her dad on Sunday night, and we decided not to tell her until Monday night because he wanted her to go to school on Monday. Big mistake and I should never have listened to him, because her teacher came in Monday morning and said "Awww Winnie I am so sorry to hear your Grandma died". Of course she started to cry and I had to pick her up from school anyway.
Tuesday was the viewing. I truly hate viewing. I didn't know whether to cry or just stand there while what felt like strange accident onlookers moved past in a steady flow. You know like when there is an accident on the highway and traffic just goes by really slow and everyone has to look as they go on. Some of the people there I had never even met before. Apparently they knew her from high school. Hmmmmm so that is what we can all expect people we probably only briefly speak to every 10 years at reunions showing up at our viewing to confuse our children.
Wednesday was the actual funeral service which I had grave side because it seemed strange to me that people always feel it necessary to parade through town when they could have just had the minister meet them all at the cemetery and done it all at once. Why prolong the whole experience. By this point Winnie had had enough. She had been crying now for almost 3 days, and she had reverted to sleeping with me at night. I just needed all of it to be over.
Thursday I had to go to the lawyers office to go over her estate, and I had to contact the insurance company to deal with the life insurance policies. She also had stocks I needed to try to figure out what to do with because she had no last will and testiment.
Finally on Friday when Winnie went back to school and I had time that I felt I could breath, it dawned on me that my mom was really gone. I couldn't visit her, talk to her, cry to her, hug her, kiss her, or anything else anymore. I laid down on my couch and I cried. I cried for a good long time. I realized though that I was crying because I felt sorry for myself. I was upset because I wanted to know who I was going to talk to now. I wasn't crying because of my families loss or because Winnie only got to know her for 8 years, but because I still thought she had to be there for me.
I had her for 29 years and I was upset because she left me. Hell she had only had her own mother for 19 years. I guess I am lucky I had for for as long as I did. I am still angry though. I miss her even though she was sick she was still there. She didn't always have answers anymore but I could still tell her everything. I loved her even though I argued with her sometimes.
Now when my heart is broken, I don't feel good, I want to complain about my crappy man choices, and sit and drink tea and talk about old family stories, who will I do it with. Like when my grandfather road a tricycle and I put on my ballet outfit and danced through the living room to the clapping and bravos of my grandparents and my mother. They are all gone, and I feel alone, sad, and angry.
I guess this is all I can say right now. When does all the crying stop? Now that I have started I just can't seem to stop.