Friends and Neighbors

Today was the memorial service for my mom and dad's friend, Jim. It was the first service I've been to since mom's. It was about as hard as I expected, and got a little harder when the video montage played and a picture of Jim and Nancy and my mom and dad came on the screen. I think I let out a gasp and then the tears started flowing. My eyes hurt right now. I watched Jim's wife, Nancy, a lot today. She looked so exhausted and beat down. I hurt for her. I plan to stay in touch with her. She is so lonely and sad and I could truly feel her pain. She lost one of her best friends (my mom) and her husband in a matter of months. And you can see it in her face.

I watched the video of a young Jim and Nancy. And in my head I replayed mom's video. A life lived flashed in moments on a screen. The minister mentioned a story when he was standing at a cemetery and a man asked him if he knew the most important part of a headstone...he didn't wait for an answer and went on to say it was the dash between the dates. That dash holds all the life lived, no matter how long or how short. I thought that was pretty profound.

I picture mom showing Jim around Heaven. Just as I pictured my mom's friend Eileen meeting mom when she arrived and showing her around.

I stopped at the cemetery on the way up today and found that mom is getting a new upstairs neighbor (that's the picture above). I also finally stopped to find where Eileen was buried (that's the other picture) and was pleased that she and mom could almost wave to one another. Thus the title of the post...I thought a lot about all the people that have been lost in the last year, including the new person that will be joining my mom in the Pieta at the cemetery. The cemetery was busy with preparation for lots of services today. My mom has joined friends and has friends joining her and new people she had never met in her life on earth.

Yet so many of us have been left behind. And the pain I saw in Nancy's face today was real and tangible and I could simply "feel" what she was feeling.

This is life. Death is part of it. But damn it is hard for those of left behind.

Today was long. It was full of tears. It was full of salt being poured into wounds that I thought were closed, but are obviously still open. I suppose today was just the first of many days like this over the course of my life.

It was a day of reflection. Those can be hard. But they can be good too.

I miss mom a lot today. But I hope she and Jim are laughing a lot together. That thought gives me some solace.

Rest in Peace Jim. You are missed.

Happy Birthday Mom

This year I didn't hunt for the perfect card to tell my mom how much I loved her even though our relationship had it's ups and downs. This year that ritual was very physically absent for me. I have avoided looking at any cards for anything. I haven't wanted to acknowledge that I will never buy another "Happy Birthday Mom" card.

I remember buying her card last year and falling apart because I knew it would be the last one. I remember making her a chocolate cake last year and then getting sick and not getting to spend the day with her. This year, I made the trek north to visit her at the cemetery. Dad and Michael met Olly and I there. I brought her flowers as usual. There were other flowers there...I don't know if someone left them for mom or if they were for Sybil, the woman just below her. I kind of feel like I know Sybil somehow too. I usually say Hi to her every time I visit mom. I know...I'm weird...but she and mom are neighbors. Anyway, not much was said by all of us, but it was good to be there. Dad and Olly and I went out for a nice brunch at Arnie's and then we took dad home and Olly fixed some computer problems he was having.

All in all, it was a good day. And I have survived the trifecta of holidays that I was dreading. My birthday, Mother's Day and mom's birthday. And I'm okay. I'm better. Time is helping. A couple of months ago, I didn't think it was, but getting through these events in one piece has helped.

On a side note, mom and dad's friend, Jim, finally lost his battle with cancer on May 30th. I knew it was coming, but it was still hard to hear. But somehow the idea of mom meeting him at the gates of Heaven and welcoming him in and showing him around made me smile. I know the two of them will laugh a lot together. His service is in 2 weeks. It will be the first memorial service I've been to since mom died. But somehow it's another sign that time has passed. Life (and death) continues.

I am incredibly sad that I will never celebrate another birthday with my mom, but on the way home today, I realized that I should have made that chocolate cake again this year. And I will from here on out for every birthday. She didn't get to enjoy cake for many, many years because of her diabetes. At the end, the cancer took over and she could eat what she wanted. And she never got that cake because I was sick. I'll make it for her every year now and will enjoy it for her. It won't be the same, but it will be in her honor.

Happy Birthday Mom. I love you.