I know that today is Tuesday. The funeral is today. It is also David’s birthday today. But since Mum died last week, my brain has seriously gone on holiday and I find myself regularly asking, “What day is it today?”
Organising a funeral is horrible. Mum and I had talked about her funeral, we had even gone to a funeral home together where I listened, as Mum talked about the music she wanted, the flowers that she liked and all the millions of small details.
We met with the celebrant(?) yesterday and I was under the impression that he would ask us questions about Mum and then he would write the Eulogy from the notes we had given him. Apparently not *sigh*
Luckily Mum’s favourite little Japanese tea rooms were close by. So my brother and his son Hayden along with Vonnie and myself brainstormed over lunch. My brother was left with the task of typing it up into a coherent Eulogy, which he would email to me, Vonnie and I would add any bits we thought of, email it back to Mick and he would email it to the celebrant.
AAAAAAARRRGHHHHHHH!!!!!!
This is really, really hard.
Today is also David’s 15th birthday. We are burying his Grandmother on his birthday. Oh shit. What the fuck was I thinking? Dont answer that ok.
I have tried really hard to make this last week as normal for Dave as possible but of course there is nothing really that I can do to distract him from his heart-ache, except hold him and try not to yell at him when he slams my doors.
I will just have to trust that everything will be all right for my son eventually.
Think of us today at three o’clock.
It has been raining steadily here for days now and everything is very soggy. The paths have turned to a muddy black mush.The water tanks are overflowing and in the middle of the night, Jeff’s shed and Dave’s bedroom floor suffered minor flood damage. Not enough to cause any real damage, just enough to be a soggy,soggy nuisance.
I am expecting a horde of ravenous teenagers up here tomorrow to celebrate Dave’s birthday,(which is on Tuesday, the day of Mum’s funeral *sigh*) I am deliberately not thinking about the mud that will be tracked through the house via the shed (eeek).
Dave’s original plan was to have his friends, who are all city kids come up here and camp in the bush. Tents, campfires, junkfood and a large bonfire and ‘voila’ with the minimum of fuss, a good time is had by all .
Except that it is the middle of winter and it wont stop raining.
So now the modified plan is for the kids to all cram into Dave’s room as well as take over Jeff’s shed. Jeff is understandably less than thrilled at the prospect of his space being filled with strange teenagers. All I can do at the moment is try not to think about it too much.
I have bought essential supplies as per the list David gave me. Coke, pizza, chippies and ice-cream, seem to have all the essential food groups covered.
Think of me tomorrow. I will be the one rocking in the corner.
I can see glimpses of my Mother’s house through the trees, from up here. We shared a property in the country. Mum lived a bit further down the valley on 14 acres and I am up here on the hill on my 4 acre lot.
Vonnie would often ring me wondering if it was too late to ring Mum and all I had to do was look out my window to see if Mum was still awake or not.
I didn’t realise how often I looked out of my window to check if Mum’s lights were on, until this last week when Mum was in hospital and all her windows were dark. I would look at her dark house momentarily puzzled as to why she would be in bed so early and then I would remember where Mum was.
Driving home from the hospital last night I looked at the clock and it was only 5.00 pm. I was shocked at how early it was. Time had been stretching out so slowly that it felt like hours and hours since Mum had died.
I am sitting here quietly crying, listening to the rain. It is a gentle rain and mine are gentle tears. My brain is working slowly and I keep on forgetting what I am supposed to be doing.
Veronica and I are meeting with the funeral directors today and we will finish this journey together, my Daughter and I. We were a threesome, Mum, Vonnie and I. We went to every appointment together. We shared the glorious highs when the tumour had shrunk and we started to believe that we might possibly be in the 5 percent who beat lung cancer. We also shared the devastating lows when the cancer reacted unpredictably and showed us just how aggressive it could be.
At our lowest moment when the cancer had really started to let us know just who was boss here, We began to suspect that there were zombies lurking in the hospital. Mum really got into the spirit of the photographic zombie hunt and we giggled away like schoolgirls.
Mum and I had discussed her funeral and she wants it to be a celebration of her life. So any family and friends out there who have a story about Mum that they would like to share at her funeral, please, please email it to me and I will have the celebrant read it out at the service. Don’t be shy ok. Mum’s friend Lauren has already sent me a great story and I will publish it here later on. Also does anyone want Mum’s cat?
A huge thankyou to all you lovely internets out there who have commented and been with me for this past year. Sometimes reading your comments has been the only thing stopping me from collapsing in a screaming heap. So in a well established bloggy tradition here is an award for you.
The zombie chicken award tadaaa!!!
You can thank Hyphen-Mama for this little gem, cheers Kim
I was called in to the hospital at 4 o’clock this morning. Dr D doesn’t think that Mum will make it through the day. I have rung my Brother, my Daughter, my Husband and my Nan.
I am sitting here holding Mum’s hand listening to Mum breathe and watching her sleep.
It is going to be a long day.
Some prayers would be nice.
By the time I left the hospital on the night that I had to have Mum admitted, it was dark and raining. The wet night perfectly suited my dark mood.
I took photographs all the way home.
I made it home without incident and the next morning I took these.
There are more lovely photographs at Lotus aka sarcastic Mom’s
