I slept poorly, having been cajoled and strangely warned by my sisters that dressing mom would potentially destroy me. I prayed hard last night for a bit of guidance and woke in the night thinking: oh, that's all it is? No big deal, I can do that. But when I awoke in ernest, the fear flooded me again. When do I let fear stop me?
As I pulled into the mortuary, I was greeted by a couple women who were mom's friends. They hugged me and smiled. We sat in the lobby and they listened as I talked about mom's passing. We cried together and communed. It was precious time. I thought seeing mom would be difficult, but she looked so peaceful and rested, untormented and the sadness was gone from her face. As I was about to touch her, I braced myself, reminding myself that her flesh would be cold, and then laid my hand on the soft skin of her shoulder. My mother. Her hair had been cleaned and brushed, her face was clean and smooth. No makeup, no embalming, just her. She looked beautiful.
My thoughts on why I wanted to do this: it was the final personal act of service I could do for her physical body.
The four of us dressed her, with Russ the funeral director assisting when he was needed. We had just finished dressing her and I had situated her arms to look a little more peaceful, when dad walked in. He saw mom completely dressed and lying in state. Such a tender mercy that he hadn't walked in while we were dressing her. Yes, it was sweet, but also a bit intense and I'd have hated for him to have seen all of that. On Thursday, it was a tender mercy that dad walked into moms room the very moment she relaxed into death, and missed the difficulties she had had just before that final moment.
She visits my imagination, free and dancing. A woman blasted out of bondage and liberated from so much suffering. I'm so happy for her. Those last and final moments of her life seemed like they hurt really bad.
Tonight dad, Lisa and I, went out for Thai food. It was so nice to have a meal together in a quiet place. I am in charge of writing and reading the eulogy, so I needed to spend some time with dad, asking timelines for things in our lives. It was fun to hear him talk like that. It surprised me how many addresses he could spit out from 45 plus years ago. Lisa retrieved a book I made for mom and dad's 25th wedding anniversary. It was a family history class project at college. I transcribed mom and dad giving their life histories (it took me about 200 hours to transcribe 8 hours worth of tape. Essentially, that was how I learned to type!). There are old photos laced around the book, some very old photos of both mom and dad. It is interesting reading back over this. I can hear mom's voice as I read, because they are her words.
I've got a lot of work to do on her eulogy. There are so many things I want to share, but really want it to all go together in a positive and uplifting light. Mom had a great sense of humor, I want this to be fun, and do her justice. I think some of her early years will shock those who knew her in her later years. Your prayers please!
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