The funeral is tomorrow and it’s really hard for me, knowing that I’m not there with my dad and my family. In fact, while they are honoring my grandma’s life, I’ll be sitting in an auditorium, watching the decked-out JonBenet’s go through the full dress rehearsal for next weekend’s recital. I canNot believe it.
This has been an “interesting” week – and I say interesting for complete and total lack of a better word. A week ago tonight, my dad was calling me to tell me he’d be on his way to Florida, that my grandmother was just not doing well. And days later? I mean, it just happened so fast once it started.
I always feel in my life when I’m going through something difficult that I need to take stock of things – I end up evaluating the people and places and friendships in my life, because it’s the tough stuff we deal with that makes it apparent who we can count on when the chips are down, when tears are falling and when you feel that things suck and you’re stuck up to your knees in quicksand and can’t get out.
I have several amazing friends who I know would pull me out of quicksand. I know it because of cards received, messages sent, and other ways of letting me know they care. But it’s surprising to find there are people who walk on by when you’re hurting. I was really surprised, actually. I’m going to give it time – let myself decompress from the week and reevaluate how I’m feeling. Admittedly, I’m feeling a bit keyed up still. Like a train wreck.
This morning, I logged onto my computer and the internet wasn’t working. I stood in the kitchen on the edge of tears because, as I griped to Hubby: “I canNOT handle one more thing not going right. I just can’t.”
My dad was telling me today that the women of my grandmother’s church are all baking cookies for after the service tomorrow. The program reads: “Following the service, please go eat your dessert. Minerva would have wanted you to eat cookies. Lots of them.”
So, that is probably what I’ll do: Eat cookies and remember my grandmother. (Feel free to join in eating the cookies – she would have liked to have a cookie-eating movement, I just know it).
About sarah
Oh Sarah, I’m so sorry for your loss, and that you can’t be there with your family. What you’ve written is so eloquent, so real, and so vital for us all to remember. I’m sorry not everyone was willing to stop and be with you during this time. But as for the cookies, I’m glad your grandma was like that. I think I would have liked her very much. No wonder you loved her. Enjoy your cookies.
I love what the program reads and what the ladies of her church are doing.
I’m sorry for you loss, and that you can’t be there with your family. That hurts the most, I know. Been in that spot earlier this year.
I’ll join you in eating cookies to honor your grandma, she was obviously a wonderful lady.
My internet has been down too, so I’m a little late reading this – but I’ll have a cookie with you! And I’m sorry that some have “walked on by.” I hope there are enough who stop and give you a hug to make up for it.
I, too, understand how hard it is to be away from family during a grieving time – I was past my due date with my 2nd when my grandpa died. Ds was born the next day, and even with the intensity of a new life, it was hard to be far away.
I hope today was filled with a cleansing type of grief, not that horrible kind.
And I can’t wait to hear what you write about the dress rehearsal. 🙂
My internet has been down as well. I, too, love what the program said. I’m so sorry for your loss.