So the rosary was 6:00 pm Friday and the funeral Saturday morning. My awesome DH put together a really nice slideshow to play while everyone was being seated before the services.
So we arrived for the Rosary and the slideshow was playing, and people started coming in and sitting down. I stayed near the door to greet guests. No sign of a funeral director or priest.
By around six, I sat with my family and the slideshow kept playing. By 6:05 most everybody had seen it at least twice and there was still no priest. So I left to go find out the plan. Nobody had a clue where the priest was. There was no funeral director there. There was basically no one in charge. My step-father was in a daze. And my family is not Catholic and had no clue how a rosary was supposed to proceed. I had no script, no planned readings, no musicians, no prepared eulogy.
I remembered that my mother's confirmation sponsor (the person who led her through her classes when she converted to Catholicism) was there, so I went and pleaded with him to lead the rosary. He was reluctantly agreeable, but did a lovely job and we were able to proceed. I felt so bad for putting him on the spot, but I had no idea what else to do.
The rosary took 10 minutes or so and then it was back to me. I told a lame story--more about my brother than my mother. And then someone in a collar appeared and sat in the very back of the chapel. I asked if he was the father, and he said he was and came up and said a prayer and then disappeared to the back again.
So I was up again, asking (begging) anyone who wanted to, to speak or tell stories about my mother. A couple of my uncles stood up, and then people felt more comfortable and several more stood up and told nice stories. When it seemed everyone was about done I was again left with shitting things down. And so I basically had to ask the priest to again come from the very back row and say a closing prayer.
It was so bizarre--definitely not like any rosary or wake I have ever attended. I never expected to have to run my mother's wake., but I somehow managed to pull it off and not look like a total idiot.
That evening, we called DH's uncle, who is a deacon in the church and pleaded with him to come to the services on Saturday in case the priest flaked again and to make sure things flowed a bit more smoothly.
Fortunately the priest was on time Saturday and DH's uncle caught him before the services to discuss how everything should flow. I think it was a huge help, and Saturday went much better. I did a reading that the priest hadn't asked anyone to cover. A dear family friend with the most gorgeous voice sang How Great Thou Art and What a Wonderful World. And my cousins handled the eulogies.
Family drama was kept to a minimum, although we headed back home shortly after the services. I really just wanted to spend Sunday at home instead of on the road. I am so glad that's done. At least that part. The had reciprocal wills, so I don't expect that much needs to be done with the estate.
*To be fair, I think this was probably this priest's first funeral. He has only been in this country for two years and he was the chaplain at the hospital. My step-father specifically requested him because she had been in the hospital so much over the last few years he is the priest they had the closest relationship with. My step-father was attending mass at the hospital even when she wasn't staying there. I think this priest was just better suited to more informal, intimate settings.
5/5/15
Progress?
So today was not much better than yesterday. The drama continued. It wasn't pretty.
My brother thinks I've gone insane and contacted my husband directly. I think I've gone insane. I feel unhinged. And I hate it. I am used to being in control and being the strong one and being the one who always keeps her shit together. And I am emotional wreck right now. I have never been so weepy and out of control.
The good news is that I went to the doc today. On top of everything else, DH and TT have had strep. DH actually has scarlet fever and is covered head to toe in a bright red rash. SS spiked a fever and sore throat this morning, and I decided to book a concurrent appointment for myself.
I lost it in the doctor's office, but I left with anti-anxiety meds. I hate asking for help. But the dread I was feeling over having to go to the funeral was overwhelming. I was truly praying to get the flu.
Hopefully this gets me through this week. I really hate taking meds. Asking for them was huge for me.
My brother thinks I've gone insane and contacted my husband directly. I think I've gone insane. I feel unhinged. And I hate it. I am used to being in control and being the strong one and being the one who always keeps her shit together. And I am emotional wreck right now. I have never been so weepy and out of control.
The good news is that I went to the doc today. On top of everything else, DH and TT have had strep. DH actually has scarlet fever and is covered head to toe in a bright red rash. SS spiked a fever and sore throat this morning, and I decided to book a concurrent appointment for myself.
I lost it in the doctor's office, but I left with anti-anxiety meds. I hate asking for help. But the dread I was feeling over having to go to the funeral was overwhelming. I was truly praying to get the flu.
Hopefully this gets me through this week. I really hate taking meds. Asking for them was huge for me.
5/4/15
The End
My mother passed on Sunday. It was a terrible end and it was time. I truly would not wish her last days on my worst enemy. Now if I can only survive the family drama.
My aunt has done everything possible to ensure that I have absolutely no control over the arrangements. I had started arrangements when I visited last month and she just undid it all and did what she wanted. I don't know why I care, but it royally pisses me off. Mostly because she's trying to run roughshod over my step-father. He is a traditional Catholic. My family is not Catholic (although my mother converted when she married her husband), and my aunt basically thinks that if she doesn't agree with all the Catholic rituals they just shouldn't happen. I don't really care what kind of service we have--I'm an atheist after all--but I don't want to see her stomp all over his wishes just because she doesn't agree with his religious choices.
I was asked to write the obit. And then she bitched and moaned and trashed it. I'm just so angry at her actions, and I can't get past it. Once my brother told me they were redoing the obit--the only thing I was allowed the slightest involvement in--I just lost it.
I was at work when all this was going down. I didn't want to miss another full week and she had already unilaterally decided that the funeral would be next weekend to make sure the rest of her siblings were there, so that they could throw a big, drunken wake. (I was there for a week a month ago, spending every night at hospice when it was touch and go before she rallied while all of her siblings went and partied every night.)
I knew I was getting emotional, so I left for lunch. My rosacea is flaring, which means the slightest bit of any emotion turns my face bright red. And so I went to my car and lost it. Anger makes me cry, and once I started I couldn't stop. And then I couldn't stop psycho-analyzing why I was crying. FFS my mother just died, I'm allowed to cry. But it's not like we had a normal relationship. After nearly an hour I was a soggy mess and gave up all hope of going back to the office.
I don't know why I'm so angry. I don't really care what they do with the service, but I'm pissed at my aunt's intentional exclusion and my brother's inability to stand up to her. Maybe I'm angry that everyone is pretending that my mother was the wonderful person now that she's dead. She wasn't a wonderful person and I'm not going to put that she was an amazing, loving mother in her obituary.
Maybe I'm angry that I didn't have an amazing, loving mother. She wasn't an addict and we weren't abused or neglected (by her, her second husband is another story). She just didn't really seem to want to have children. We were just there--a burden she had to bear. And she told us of all the things she couldn't do because of us.
Maybe I'm angry that my kids don't have any grandmothers. The only one who paid them any attention died 5 years ago. They had virtually no relationship with my mother.
Maybe I'm angry because Mother's Day is being shoved in my face. I hate Mother's Day in any year for the above reasons, but this year it's just an emotional clusterfuck. Her funeral will be the day before.
Anyway, I'm angry. Two glasses of wine has not quashed my anger. And my head hurts. And my eyes hurt. And I just want to go to sleep, but when I try the anger just wells up and the adrenaline starts and I can't sleep.
And I'm not being nice to my brother and it's not really his fault. His wife just had a baby on Friday and she is still having complications. He doesn't need my raging on top of everything else.
This is long and rambling and nonsensical. But I think you got the gist. I'm angry.
My aunt has done everything possible to ensure that I have absolutely no control over the arrangements. I had started arrangements when I visited last month and she just undid it all and did what she wanted. I don't know why I care, but it royally pisses me off. Mostly because she's trying to run roughshod over my step-father. He is a traditional Catholic. My family is not Catholic (although my mother converted when she married her husband), and my aunt basically thinks that if she doesn't agree with all the Catholic rituals they just shouldn't happen. I don't really care what kind of service we have--I'm an atheist after all--but I don't want to see her stomp all over his wishes just because she doesn't agree with his religious choices.
I was asked to write the obit. And then she bitched and moaned and trashed it. I'm just so angry at her actions, and I can't get past it. Once my brother told me they were redoing the obit--the only thing I was allowed the slightest involvement in--I just lost it.
I was at work when all this was going down. I didn't want to miss another full week and she had already unilaterally decided that the funeral would be next weekend to make sure the rest of her siblings were there, so that they could throw a big, drunken wake. (I was there for a week a month ago, spending every night at hospice when it was touch and go before she rallied while all of her siblings went and partied every night.)
I knew I was getting emotional, so I left for lunch. My rosacea is flaring, which means the slightest bit of any emotion turns my face bright red. And so I went to my car and lost it. Anger makes me cry, and once I started I couldn't stop. And then I couldn't stop psycho-analyzing why I was crying. FFS my mother just died, I'm allowed to cry. But it's not like we had a normal relationship. After nearly an hour I was a soggy mess and gave up all hope of going back to the office.
I don't know why I'm so angry. I don't really care what they do with the service, but I'm pissed at my aunt's intentional exclusion and my brother's inability to stand up to her. Maybe I'm angry that everyone is pretending that my mother was the wonderful person now that she's dead. She wasn't a wonderful person and I'm not going to put that she was an amazing, loving mother in her obituary.
Maybe I'm angry that I didn't have an amazing, loving mother. She wasn't an addict and we weren't abused or neglected (by her, her second husband is another story). She just didn't really seem to want to have children. We were just there--a burden she had to bear. And she told us of all the things she couldn't do because of us.
Maybe I'm angry that my kids don't have any grandmothers. The only one who paid them any attention died 5 years ago. They had virtually no relationship with my mother.
Maybe I'm angry because Mother's Day is being shoved in my face. I hate Mother's Day in any year for the above reasons, but this year it's just an emotional clusterfuck. Her funeral will be the day before.
Anyway, I'm angry. Two glasses of wine has not quashed my anger. And my head hurts. And my eyes hurt. And I just want to go to sleep, but when I try the anger just wells up and the adrenaline starts and I can't sleep.
And I'm not being nice to my brother and it's not really his fault. His wife just had a baby on Friday and she is still having complications. He doesn't need my raging on top of everything else.
This is long and rambling and nonsensical. But I think you got the gist. I'm angry.
5/2/15
Update on my crappy life
The last month has been one giant nightmare. It feels like a black cloud is handing over my head and I can't get away from it.
My mother is still here. When I arrived in Hometown, I honestly though she wouldn't make it another 24 hours (and so did the doctor, the hospice staff, and everyone else). But all of her family flooded in and she rallied. As in she started being awake and eating. But her speech is completely nonsensical.
I think everyone around us expected some magical healing of our relationship. There wasn't. There won't be. Closure is a myth. But I'm ok with that.
I returned home after a week--but at least we got funeral arrangements made, because despite her poor health she and her husband had made no arrangements (he also has cancer).
She has held steady since, but has reportedly declined again in the last couple of days. Apparently she's trying to beat my mother-in-law's record setting hospice stay. Her condition is abysmal and too grotesque to convey. I wouldn't wish my worst enemy to continue living that way.
To add to that nightmare (which is really enough on its own), my cousin died in a hotel room while in town to visit my mother. He had a terminal illness, but was very young, and the timing of his death was unexpected and complicated by being 400 miles away.
The lice situation took forever to deal with and was a total pain in the ass. The thing is, everyone I've talked to will admit that they've dealt with it one I bring it up, but nobody every talks about it otherwise. It's like America's dirty little secret.
My car was hit by another driver, and his insurance company is denying the claim--without even bothering to look at the damage. Hello, Progressive, quit being assholes! I so do not have time to deal with this shit right now, and I'm not about to turn it in on my policy because I have a brand new teenage driver on my policy who makes my rates unbelievably astronomical.
Teenager hit another car in the parking lot at school the first week she started driving her new (used) car. Fortunately, it didn't damage the other vehicle and the other kid brushed it off, but it left a nice welt on her car.
I've got a bunch of family begging for help with their legal issues and I just don't have the fucking time to deal with it.
My secretary quit.
I've boarded two separate planes that I subsequently had to vacate because of mechanical problems, and spent much more time in airports than necessary.
DH has scarlet fever and is covered head to toe with a funky rash all over his body. TT has strep. SS had to go to the ER a couple of weeks ago after getting weird shooting pains in her gut. (It was, thankfully, nothing--but it's not the kind of pain you can ignore and the ER bill cleaned out our FSA, which I am thankful we had available to cover it.)
On the positive side,
The cutting seems to have stopped (but who knows--she could certainly be covering it up). She likes her therapist and it seems to be going well.
PS's robotics team made it to the world championships again and did well.
PS has a car! She still doesn't like driving, but her self-sufficiency is huge for me. I love her being able to haul herself around and help out with her sisters.
Only a month left of school. I love summer so much, and I am so ready for the break from all the craziness.
My mother is still here. When I arrived in Hometown, I honestly though she wouldn't make it another 24 hours (and so did the doctor, the hospice staff, and everyone else). But all of her family flooded in and she rallied. As in she started being awake and eating. But her speech is completely nonsensical.
I think everyone around us expected some magical healing of our relationship. There wasn't. There won't be. Closure is a myth. But I'm ok with that.
I returned home after a week--but at least we got funeral arrangements made, because despite her poor health she and her husband had made no arrangements (he also has cancer).
She has held steady since, but has reportedly declined again in the last couple of days. Apparently she's trying to beat my mother-in-law's record setting hospice stay. Her condition is abysmal and too grotesque to convey. I wouldn't wish my worst enemy to continue living that way.
To add to that nightmare (which is really enough on its own), my cousin died in a hotel room while in town to visit my mother. He had a terminal illness, but was very young, and the timing of his death was unexpected and complicated by being 400 miles away.
The lice situation took forever to deal with and was a total pain in the ass. The thing is, everyone I've talked to will admit that they've dealt with it one I bring it up, but nobody every talks about it otherwise. It's like America's dirty little secret.
My car was hit by another driver, and his insurance company is denying the claim--without even bothering to look at the damage. Hello, Progressive, quit being assholes! I so do not have time to deal with this shit right now, and I'm not about to turn it in on my policy because I have a brand new teenage driver on my policy who makes my rates unbelievably astronomical.
Teenager hit another car in the parking lot at school the first week she started driving her new (used) car. Fortunately, it didn't damage the other vehicle and the other kid brushed it off, but it left a nice welt on her car.
I've got a bunch of family begging for help with their legal issues and I just don't have the fucking time to deal with it.
My secretary quit.
I've boarded two separate planes that I subsequently had to vacate because of mechanical problems, and spent much more time in airports than necessary.
DH has scarlet fever and is covered head to toe with a funky rash all over his body. TT has strep. SS had to go to the ER a couple of weeks ago after getting weird shooting pains in her gut. (It was, thankfully, nothing--but it's not the kind of pain you can ignore and the ER bill cleaned out our FSA, which I am thankful we had available to cover it.)
On the positive side,
The cutting seems to have stopped (but who knows--she could certainly be covering it up). She likes her therapist and it seems to be going well.
PS's robotics team made it to the world championships again and did well.
PS has a car! She still doesn't like driving, but her self-sufficiency is huge for me. I love her being able to haul herself around and help out with her sisters.
Only a month left of school. I love summer so much, and I am so ready for the break from all the craziness.
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