The Day After

Last post on the death of my mother, at least for a while.  The funeral was as nice as a funeral could be, I suppose.  Mom was laid out in the mint green lace dress she had worn to my wedding twenty-one years ago.  In her hands were her father's rosary beads, around her wrist a charm bracelet with the names and birth dates of all five children, and on her finger the wedding ring Dad gave her in 1941.  The grandchildren participated as pall bearers and lectors, and I actually managed to sing the Communion hymn without falling apart.  The trip to the cemetery was strange.  I hadn't stopped to think that on the other side of the hedge from my mother and father's grave is the grave of my brother and niece.  The last time I was there the hedges were up to my knees and there was space between them to walk through the rows.  Now they are at my waist and dense as a wall.

Stupid thoughts raced through my head all night.  I was aching because she was outside in the cold and the dark, as if that mattered.  I remember having the same silly thoughts years ago when my younger brother died in February.  Today begins the business of learning to live in a world without Diamond Lil.  As the tongue always searches for the hole after a tooth is removed, my mind keeps going to the empty space she has left in my life.  For today the time I spent at the nursing home can be spent writing thank you notes to the many friends who went out of their way to show their love and caring.  Tomorrow will be another story.