Buried my mother today

 That's such a flatly weird statement to type, and it only happens once in a lifetime. (Don't get picky about stepmoms!) Yesterday was non-stop, today not as bad, slower now in early evening.

Yesterday: still making phone calls, still haven't heard response from emails about charges on apartment while clearing out. Then got ready to go to BuxMont for interment of my friend Carol's ashes (whole other story), which was lovely but, of course, stressful. Then to my storage, to pull out lots of stuff while waiting for Mark. He was with Beth at Mom's apartment, sorting stuff, and sending pictures. Here's a tip: you need pictures in order to schedule a Habitat for Humanity (H4H from now on) donation pick up. Mark arrived at storage after I'd moved a bunch of stuff out of the way (have been getting rid of things, but clearly not quickly enough), then we fought to get my grandfather's bed into my car, couldn't get the small chest in his. Then dropped that off at H4H, drove up to Mom's where Beth had been efficiently organizing all day. I'm keeping too much stuff, but being gentle with myself, because I can always donate it later, but once it's gone it's gone.

Yesterday evening I spoke with R, a Baha'i who Mom wanted to do the service. For years, nay, decades, whenever the subject of her funeral was brought up Mom would say 'Oh, the Bahais will handle everything.' I spoke with R two weeks ago at Mom's, he showed me the part of the service that is obligatory. I asked 'So, you'll handle everything?' He said 'Yes, I'm happy to handle all this.' So, imagine my surprise when he tells me that 'everything' to him meant the obligatory prayer, but not anything else. He has no service, it's just that one piece for 3-4 mins. 

I've been a worship leader at BuxMont for years, and have decades of experience in public speaking from lecturing, plus, as an EoL Doula, I'm hoping to do memorial and interment services, because I love designing spiritual rituals. But no, only 15 hours before my mother's service, I wasn't prepared when this was said. 

Fortunately, because I'd planned on saying something, my minster lent me the book he's put together for doing funerals and such. (Did I mention before that my minister was not just supportive of my becoming an EoL Doula, but downright thrilled?! Ecstatic would not be too strong a word!) We'd worked together on Carol's ashes interment, and I'd really liked several passages that he'd included, he generously lent me his book. So, at least I wasn't working from nothing. 

About 2 hours later R calls back and says another member of their community does, in fact, have a service she can use, with readings & prayers. But maybe 10 minutes worth? Here's my philosophy: if someone is going to take time out of their busy schedule, drive an hour to & from, they deserve something memorable. Started working with my minister's words, and didn't take much to do some minor re-vamping. It did, however, take time & energy. As did going through my mom's jewelry for pieces Beth & I could wear. 

This morning woke at 9:00, did stuff (Can never figure out what eats up 40 mins....), washed hair, dressed, Beth, Mark & I got out the door. We'd realized it would be wise to have something to serve after the burial, but what? I got water, cider and GF cookies (because if I'm bringing them they're gonna be gluten free!). Yesterday Mark had picked up 2 dozen long stemmed flowers at my request. Brought other Baha'i stuff that Beth had found in various places around apartment. (My comment to R was that this might be the only burial in history where funeral favors were given out!)

Arrived at cemetery to find hearse, and that Mom's coffin was already in place over the hole, with the freshly dug dirt next to the opening. This is a 'green burial cemetery' in every way except they use a small backhoe to dig the grave, to be a 'real' green cemetery it has to be hand dug. Seriously? 

It was bizarre to think of my mother's tiny body in that wood casket (hard wood, no nails, as per Baha'i protocol), so I just didn't, which, while not an approved coping mechanism has it's place in the short term. Instead, got out the 8x10 photo that I'd wisely had printed last week before her death, put the frame on top of the casket. Next to it I put my kitty Tabitha's ashes, along with a picture of her & Mom. If you read back to 2015 you will find my memorial to Tabitha, including that she happily lived as an only cat for her last three and a half years with Mom. I've got 5 other cat's ashes to go into the ground with me, not including Spice, so it made sense to have Tabitha keep Mom company. 

Sonja, from the funeral home, gave me the copies of the death certificates (guess they should be checked, although they sent me the info to make sure), and the little cards you get at funerals. It was as had been designed, a pastoral scene with a gate on the front, then a small pic of Mom with her dates, favorite Baha'i prayer (fortunately short), and the Baha'i 9-pointed star. It didn't register much with me. Arranged the flowers in 2 vases, waited for others to come. The weather was perfect: sunny, 70 degrees, only a few clouds. 

A few more people arrived, total of 8 of us. S, who had a Baha'i service, had come with printed out copies of prayers, on paper with pretty designs and personalized with Mom's name and the date. The prayers were divided up amongst those who wished to read (my Mom's closest friend was too emotional, the writing was difficult for Beth to read on a background with design, and I was doing other stuff), S & I figured out when my part would come.

The Baha'i prayers are nice, a bit too flowery for my taste, and they aren't personal. So, what I said, thanks in no small part to Kevin's choices, was more about her, that she had enriched our lives, that her memory would live on, that she was returning to the earth from whence all life comes. Surprisingly, I made it through several minutes only choking up a couple times. Then, the final obligatory prayer was read, and the casket was lowered into the hole.

That made it real, seeing the coffin with my mother's remains lowered into the earth, looking farther than 6 feet down, and I started to quietly cry. Beth gently put her arm around me and hugged, which helped. After the coffin was lowered, and the straps and mechanics around the hole taken away, I asked for those present to talk about Mom, share memories or stories, and when they did so to then toss a flower on top of her coffin, so that she would be covered in happy memories. And then I told everyone why my mother had been buried with a spoon.

Can't remember where it appeared, maybe Reader's Digest? The story went that an elderly woman died, and a spoon was in her hand at the open casket. The minister explained that this lady had always loved the pot-luck and community meals that had been shared, and remembered that every time when the dishes were being cleared you would be told 'Save your spoon! The best is yet to come!', and then dessert would be brought. And the woman loved that thought: you have died, but the best is yet to come. My mother loved this story, it was referenced over and over, although not in the last several years. But when she was still cogent I reminded her, and asked if she'd like to be buried with a spoon. Her face lit up as she excitedly exclaimed 'Yes!' It was a regular spoon, one she'd used hundreds of times before, just as it would be if it was for dessert. Everyone loved the story, so suspect there will be more burials with spoons. 

Other people related memories & stories, and we also threw in flowers for those who were unable to attend, and I poured Tabitha's ashes in, concentrating on approximately where I thought Mom's lap would be located. Then I asked to do the Jewish custom of throwing dirt in. Sonja explained that the closest relative had to start, and the dirt needed to be on the back of the shovel, because that was harder, and it symbolized that you were willing to do something hard as your last service to your loved one. Then others added more dirt, and we walked to the gazebo for visiting, cider & cookies. Honestly, it couldn't have gone better. 

Beth, Mark & I then went to a restaurant where Mom & I used to like to eat, although it's been several years. We had an excellent meal, then I reached for my wallet and saw one of those memorial cards with her picture. For a split second it flashed through my mind 'oh, that's only for people who have died', and then it hit me anew and I started sobbing, right in the restaurant. People tell me that's going to keep happening, that the grief doesn't hit you when you are expecting it, but shows up in odd moments when you don't have your defenses up.

At home, lots still to do. More clearing out to be done, H4H hasn't given us a time Friday, not even if morning or afternoon. A friend & Mark will move things to storage on Friday. Tomorrow morning I'll try to narrow down H4H times, and notify long term care insurance. Need to talk to billing dept, they haven't responded to my email. Still have to call her college roommate; her cousins, with whom she only corresponded once a year, will have to wait. Beth thinks the apartment will be cleared out by Friday afternoon, I'm not so sure, but need to check and see if they'll stop charging then, or if it goes through the weekend, or if they'll let me take things out since they'll have to re-do the whole apartment. Hoping to crump Friday night & Saturday, then next week will be paperwork. 

While tired think I'm still running on adrenalin, because it's been non-stop. Starting Oct 3, when Mom told me of her decision, I was with her every day. She stopped eating Oct 9, hospice officially started 13th, and the next two weeks she deteriorated, with the final days being a vigil. Then she died, and so many things needed to be done right away. In hindsight the only thing I could have done better was have cleared out my storage, which has been on my 'to-do' list for years. I've made real progress, but needed furniture moved, so that's holding things up at this point. But the end of the madly busy stuff is almost over, and then reality is going to hit because there won't be as much to distract me.

Grieving, as will be said repeatedly, is a process, and I know this. But, I've never lost my mother before, so this is different.