Mom's funeral--part 2

Today I find myself missing my mom. It's just that I never got to say, "Goodbye" to her. I did a session on Cora the other day and it came up that this was troubling her too. It just doesn't seem right to bury someone without first telling them "Goodbye." There's nothing that I can do about it, though, except resort to my old therapy of writing out my feelings. I'm glad that there are others out there who care enough about me to continue reading my blog, even though it isn't always "Pleasant" conversation. You are such special friends to me and I thank you!

When I posted about the funeral earlier I only got half way through with sharing my thoughts. Today seems like a good day to share the other half. This is what my mother looked like the last time that I saw her. She was still puffy in the face and had a big bruise on her left hand but, after all, she was dead. Shortly after this the mortician's people took the necklace and earrings off of her body and put them in a soft, velvet pouch which I found later. Dad wanted me to have them. These were given to my mother by my father on their wedding day which was December 3, 1950. They almost made it to 60 years of marriage together. She would have turned 80 this October. She liked growing roses so we picked this coffin for her.

This picture was taken when we first got out to the cemetery. The family was filing in under the canopy here and the pastor was waiting for us. He sang a wonderful solo of comfort--what a blessing he was to all of us.

It was in this setting that I experienced a miracle. You see, I was standing behind my dad who was sitting in front of me and my brother, Duard, sat beside him. At the moment I had been dreading, the final "Amen" was pronounced. I broke into quiet sobs. Robert, who was standing behind me, had his arm around my waist. My hand was on top of Robert's arm when suddenly I felt that somebody softly started squeezing my hand. I looked down and saw that my brother, Duard, had reached around dad and taken my hand in his. He held my hand firmly and suddenly I didn't hate him any more. I leaned over him and hugged his shoulders. Suddenly I realized that my tears were falling on the little bald spot on his head. It was such a wonderful moment that I know I'll never forget it. This was the first time in my life that he had ever expressed any concern for me!!! It took 51 years, but IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT!!! Do you see why I say that this was a miracle? PRAISE THE LORD!!!

Right after this the Lord blessed me again through the precious friend I have in my Uncle David. When Duard let go of my hand, I found myself in the warm embrace of this life-long friend. Uncle David always had a way with words and his gift didn't fail him in that moment either. He took me by the shoulders; looked me square in the eyes; and said these words. "Your mother wasn't perfect, but she was STILL your mother."

What a blessing this was to me as I knew that he knew that my mother's bitterness had ruined almost all of her friendships in her later years. Knowing this is what made the whole thing so difficult for me. My mother had ostracized many of the ladies in her church but here I was dependent upon them to take care of the food. I was so thankful for each one who helped in the kitchen and I bless them all. Here I am talking to the Eberhart ladies whom I grew up with. Mom and I both worked in that room many times to help serve for Easter sunrise breakfasts; or work on punch for weddings; or to cut cake for funerals. Mom's dearest friend Estella, who always forgave my mom for her harsh words, is seen in the background. How could I ever have gotten through the funeral without these ladies? Thank you, God, for all of the ladies aiders of the world who do so much good with their kind hearts.

These are a few of the bouquets our family received in honor of mom. The pink roses my aunt Francis took home with her to Wisconsin. I brought the red ones home and they were lovely for almost 3 weeks. I took all of the petals off of them and the other flowers we received. When they're completely dry, I'll buy a pretty glass jar and store them there. I saved all of the flower petals from my collage graduation like this and they are still special to me now. I'll want to keep these petals too in remembrance of the wonderful friends who sent their condolences with flowers. What a beautiful gift!!!

Here I am showing my aunt and cousin the flowers that I received from my partners at the North Dakota BodyTalk Center. They were so lovely. I sent these ladies and several friends home with a rose of their choice from the rose bouquet. I wanted them each to have something lovely to remember mom by. I prayed that my small gift would help them to see that I had changed a lot since I left Eureka 20 years ago--that I wasn't a bitter, angry woman like my mother was. In fact, the words that comforted me the most through all of this came from Robert. The night that mom died, somehow Robert felt led to say this to me, "No 2 people were ever more different than you and your mother." I took it to be a big compliment that the good work which God has been doing in me these past 20 years has brought about a changed disposition. I thank God for leading me to the people who could help me to see where I needed to make changes in my life if I were to ever be truly loved and truly happy. Thank you to each one of you who has played a role in this.

One of the few friends that are still left in Eureka from our days there, is my friend Pat Grenz. I regret that I do not have a picture of her from the front. Here she is talking to Robert and the boys with her husband Greg. Our children have often heard about Pat Grenz from their parents and now they see why why she holds such a special place in our hearts. Pat is just one of those people who lights up the room with her smile. When I saw her outside of the church, before we left for the cemetery, I jumped out of the car and ran to her. Our embrace was as though 20 years had never parted our hearts. Later we invited them to Andrew's graduation so I hope to be able to get a picture of her from the front at a HAPPY occasion.

These are friends whom I couldn't have gotten through the day without either. I grew up with Donald and I sang at his wedding to Roxanne. They have grown older with Robert and I but our hearts are still young when we can be together. Thanks for coming, dear friends.

I could not believe that we could eat supper after all of that. I ate hardly anything at the church but still I wasn't hungry. Still, the ladies had sent home so much food so we set it out. Someone prayed and we started picking at our food. Suddenly the joy of being together took over and Aunt Francis said, "I can't believe that we can eat again." Everyone laughed and, if it weren't for dad's strained face at the table and no mother there, it would have been a wonderful time.

After supper, Sharel brought the huge box of sympathy cards and set them on the table. My dad started crying again but we had to get going home for chores and Sharel had to get going to her play practice. We knew what we had to do. Robert, Aunt Francis, and Sharel opened the envelopes and separated those with memorials from those without. I wrote down if anyone had given any money and somehow we got through it. Duard helped when Sharel left and soon there were piles of money on the table and a pile of checks. Then we needed to write down all of the people who gave food gifts or flowers so that we could be sure to thank everyone. We divided the sympathy cards and thank you cards into 5 piles. Two piles went to Duard and Sharel; one to Rick; and 2 to our family. Later on we realized the blessing that a return address was on the cards or envelopes. I decided right then and there that from now on when I send a memorial, I will put one of our return address labels on it so the family doesn't have to scrounge for addresses for hundreds of people. One friend from the Alfred church shared 3 great ideas. She had a return address label on the back of the card; she had written on the card the amount of the check, and she had taped the check to the card. WOW--thanks Burnette! I reckon she's been through this before. Andrew and Uncle David got to know each other a little bit while we worked on opening all of the sympathy cards.

Finally Aunt Francis shared the pictures that they took during their time in Eureka for mom's funeral. It is always such a blessing to have lots of cameras going because everyone gets different angles on things. These people were/are such a blessing to me. Dad said that Francis calls him a couple of times a week. Thank you Lord for Uncle David and Aunt Francis.

So we came home; did chores; got busy; and tried to forget that my mother was dead. It keeps coming back, though, and I have prayed a lot for a way to explain how I really felt about my mother in these later years. Something changed in her when my parents started getting lots of money. Slowly I saw the finer things that I had loved about her disappear as she took comfort in being better than other people. It aches me still to think of how she ruined most of her friendships with her supposed superiority because of her larger bank account.

I have prayed a lot about posting this song but it just seems to say better than anything else what my relationship with my mother really was like this past decade or so. Jacob kept talking about wanting to show me this song and so I finally listened. Half way through I suddenly saw that this was the story of my relationship with my mom. I'm sorry that I can't say that it wasn't this way--that was not my desire. I wanted a loving relationship with my mom soooooooo badly but somehow I always seemed to fall short of what she wanted me to be. I kept trying to please her, so that she would love me as I am. I'm still not sure what she wanted out of me. I loved her so much that I even bought her grapes, but it just wasn't what she wanted. This little song is the story of my relationship with my mom during these later years. I'm the lemonade salesman and she is the duck.

I'm sorry if this is offensive to anyone, it's just how things really were between my mom and me. I'm glad, though, that I didn't post this right away when Jacob showed it to me. I've been wanting to see just what the Lord is trying to say to me through it before I write about it. This is how I view it now after a few weeks of pondering. Even though my mom seldom wanted my grapes when I went out of my way to get them for her, she was still a big part of my life. She was my mom and even ducks are missed once in awhile when they're gone. Better still, I quote my Uncle David again, "SHE WASN'T PERFECT, BUT SHE WAS STILL YOUR MOTHER."