Be patient… there’s some formatting issues on this blog due to some wonky code somewhere that I need to fix cut cannot address until tomorrow. It’s truly hosed but you should always be able to read the most recent post w/o hassle.
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We are solid in the middle of sorting through Cruel Wife’s mom’s stuff.
You might be able to imagine three very intelligent and opinionated sisters in a high-stress situation of sorting through their mother’s belongings after a very unexpected demise. It has been… trying. Not bad, not good – no judgment – but a situation requiring lots of latitude and patience.
The only thing we can figure is that she exhibited all the symptoms of heart problems, yet because the most commonly known symptoms of heart problems are the symptoms that apply to men.
Things like blue fingers and nose, one cold leg and one hot, tired for no reason… everyone thought she had the best health and ate healthier and exercised more than any of us. But, sometimes this sort of thing doesn’t make any sense at all and a common theme here has been one of self-blame, and that is unfair to one but it is also understandable.
So three crazy-tense sisters and two of us husbands who could make it, and we’ve tried keeping kids sane or at the least out of their mothers’ hair. It’s interesting.
On the way out here from the airport (about three hours of driving), we came across an interesting spot.
A single-wide trailer, its outhouse, and next to a truck car-wash. Save your soul, empty your bladder, and drive away in a sparkling-clean truck. Just down the road is the best part – a gas station that sells corndogs. Since being back in the NW I have had five corndogs, which you don’t find in so many places in Michigan. It has been a slice of heaven. So not all about this vacation has been sad. Hey, work with me here – it’s been a visit with many bittersweet moments as memories have been relived – but there have been chances for people to show strength, too. Corndogs help.
More later…
Corndogs do help, for they are comfort food.
I pray things are going as well as they can be. I know there will be some strife, along with blame and guilt, but I hope they remember their mother was happy.
Sorry for your family’s sudden loss. Anything I can say will be inadequate. Try to remember the humorous times, sweet times, fun times. YEah, and eat corndogs.
My condolences. Grief is a strange beastie, and sometimes it comes out in strange ways. A colleague of mine recently lost her husband to the big C. and I skipped the funeral. I talked to her a week later and made my apologies.
She knew my previous wife, who died of a rare disease, and my current wife went through chemo at the same time her husband did. So when I made my apologies, she replied, “I’m glad you didn’t”
Being of a curious nature I asked why. She replied, “you, in a dark suit, I would have started laughing about the grim reaper look.” I think I broke a gasket laughing.
I love it! Thanks for the humor and the condolensces, Allen.
I learned two important things through this ordeal.
The first thing I learned is that people tend to deal with grief in two ways. Some need to hear and share other people’s memories at the funeral service in order to deal with their grief. Others need to lock it away until it becomes less painful. Those people don’t want to hear the stories, because it only adds to their grief. My dad happens to be in the second group.
My sister went through a similarly painful loss, losing a child right after birth. We knew the baby had birth defects and wouldn’t survive, but she carried the baby to term, treasuring what time she had with him while still in the womb. You can imagine the pain after, though. Her priest gave some very wise advice. He told her that people need to have to opportunity to grieve and express their sorrow with you. If you don’t give them the opportunity at the funeral, they will seek you out over the weeks and months ahead in order to do so. His advice to avoid that situation was to have a receiving line after the service. Yes, just like at a wedding. That way people have a chance to say how sorry they are, but being in a line, they will keep it short and sweet. Its like ripping the band-aid off. You know it will hurt, but it gets the pain overwith so you can move on.
The second thing I learned was that many, many people loved my mom, too. When I was growing up, everyone knew Dad because he was a school teacher in a small town. Mom was know as Dad’s wife. She retired after I had moved away, and became involved with the church and community. She earned a name of her own there, and was well loved by many.
My mom was a remarkable woman, bucking tradition to earn a bachelors in chemistry degree back in 1959. I believe she was the only woman in her graduating class. She had three daughters, and taught us to stand on our own despite what people might say or think about it. Each of us have followed in her footsteps, one way or another. What better legacy is there to leave behind?