"She looks lovely" Really? Whatever...she is wearing PURPLE eye shadow...it don't go well w/ death pallor GRAY.
"God needed her." Soooo a 15 year old girl didn't? Wow...your God is one greedy, needy man. I have decided I don't like him much.
"The good die young" Ok, I won't even start to to explain to your simple mind how disturbing that is...move along you nut case!
I remember all disturbing comments, looks & sighs of that day in slow motion. Slowwwww moOoOo...standing..wearing pantie hose...in a funeral parlor...on a summer day set on broil. (Just to warn you...parlors have a weird smell. Add that weird smell to a 96 degree, humid day & you get....steamed death...delishhhh.)
Even though that day was Disturbing...there was so bright, funny, shining moments I cling to.
Laughter.
My balm.
The first laughter relief came from a family friend named Mike & his collage age daughter. Mike, taking my hand & dragging me to the far back wall of the parlor...away from the corpse that stole my Mothers happy form. I was deeply aware of him taking me from that view & setting me up at the back. I loved him that moment. Then he did something that took my breath away. He said.
"What the HELLS with all these DAM$ FLIES? Their everywhere! It's not good for business! Flies in a funeral parlor says DEATH."
And for the next 15 minutes Mike, his daughter & I laughed & cackled at the jokes we traded (mostly at the visitors expense...the fake friend ones) Mike held my arm, his daughter touching me on the back....bringing me back to life.
Lovely Mike died a few months after that day. Heart attack at 48. The thought of his wife & daughters standing at his wake made me ill.
Second laughter rescue was sweet & giggly. The kind you get as you see your crush walk through the school cafeteria......as you bash into a pillar (No joke) watching him catching a glimpse of you....walking face first into said pillar.
Oh sweet mercy...The Boy. The Boy...at...... my moms FUNERAL...oh man this SUCKS! Does my breath smell? My hair feels weird! What do I say to The Boy? "Hello Boy...you remember my mom?" Do I do a ventriloquist trick? Throw my voice? "Well hello there sonny! Nice to see you again? Please excuse me if I just lay here."
The mere sight of The Boy makes my knee caps explode. I want to push him out the door horrified that he has to see...this. Death. Yet, wanting to cling to him & bury my nose in his collar & beg him to take me fishing, biking, reading...take me anywhere, but here!
I giggle like a school girl....because...... I am one....as he stands by me. "Hi Jenny."
Holy crap, he said my NAME.
"Hi Boy" giggle. "Sorry your mom dragged you here. I know this is weird." giggle
"I'm sorry about your mom. I wasn't dragged here by the way...Mom let me drive."
"Wow...you are so cool. Such a big boy driving."
"I know...you're jealous."
Here is were I catch a whiff of his deodorant mixed with boy...& I lose consciousness for a moment.
"Do you need anything? Gum? A gun? Sleeping aids? My moms a wreck...I have to drive her home now...she's going to embarrasses us by crying. See you later?"
"Thanks Boy"
He waves Goodbye to me.
Where am I?
I'm floating.
Oh mY HeCK! I was hitting on The Boy at my moms VIEWING! I am sick!
The rest of the viewing I stand, feet swelling in my heels & a goofy smile on my face.
Third and last laughter happens toward the end of the viewing. Before I see them...I feel them. I am startled by the sensation. The voice is clear. "they came for you."
I twirl around & face the parlor doorway....waiting. I feel them first....then I see it. The neon glow on the wall facing the parlor wall. The white wall become saturated by pink then yellow...orange. Oh how I love them....my friends...they come for me....SWEET Mother of PINE NUTS! My friends...coming off the camping trip...to see my dead mother! Crappy Pants! I'm embarrassed. I'm so tired of people looking at her this way. No more! I'm done & fling off my shoes & bolt for the parlor doorway. Like a good comedy I collide into 6 very sunburned, very stinky, very tired girls & their mothers. I push them away from the doorway. I do not allow them in. I want to bask in their Day-Glo shirts, their short shorts & their camp fire perfume. . We hug & hug & burst out laughing at the sight of them. They beg my forgiveness. They all decided to come straight to the viewing after driving 3 hours back from camp. What 15-16 year old girl decides to leave camp early, smelly & ratty haired...to a funeral? Girls who didn't give a rats tush for themselves. Girls who would do anything for me.
I am in love. I am surrounded by love. I pick chunks of woodland creatures out of their hair. They give me back rubs & tease me about my suit. They strain to see my mothers body...through the parlor doorway. I don't let them in. They understand.
They hand me candy.
Oh so loved!
Standing at her grave for her service I saw The Boy far in the distance. Later that night he came to my door. While my family, Grandma, Aunts, Uncles chatted in the back ground after a long day of dealing w/ death. He sat close, knee to knee with me as we ate Kentucky Fried Chicken. occasionally bumping shoulders with me as we told jokes & gossiped. We drank New York Seltzer ....blueberry. He touched the tips of my fingers every so often. & I thanked the Lord above for my happy distraction. He stayed with me...until everyone left for their hotel rooms at 12 am. To this day, I don't think he knew how much that meant to me. How much that saved me. A young boy who I know felt terribly uncomfortable in this situation he was in, still stayed. He forgot himself & he helped a friend.
My sunburned friends called & called. Not to say sorry, but to invite me out. Movies, shopping, parties. They held my hands walking down the halls of school my sophomore year. We traded clothes & we shared make-up. They asked if it made me sad when they talked about their moms. They pretended not to notice how my eyes welled up as they spoke of their moms. They didn't avoid the word "mom." I wanted to hear that word...because all the adults around me refused to say it. Afraid they would upset my little girl psyche.
Most of the adults avoided me...or wanted to stuff me into school therapy...yeah that didn't work out to well. Adults were afraid of me...except my cranky band teacher. After my mother died, my Dad bought me an electric bass. He dropped me off at school in the summer so my band teacher could give me private lessons. The day I sat down w/ my sunburst colored bass, Mr. Keyes asks me how my summer was going.
"My mom died 2 weeks ago."
Silence......"No one told me. I'm so sorry......wow....that's really...... sh%tty......"
Then
Mr. Keyes & I laugh at the absurdity of it all. He hugs me for a second, around my neck with his lumber Jack arm...his signature move...nearly snapping my clavicle.
"Wow kid....If you ever need just to hang out...you come to me. If your day gets too hard to handle I can get you out of class. But if you do come here to escape, you must escape w/ your bass & practice. No weenies or free rides allowed...ok kid? Well...let's do this. Ok, the string are just like your upright bass....."
And so....my life went on.
My mother died at 51 from pneumonia complications after her body was eaten by bone cancer brought on by breast cancer. My father was 50. I was 15.
Summer after my freshman year. My moms death left me with a hole in my little heart. But my mom never left me to struggle on alone. She was a crafty smart women. I have no doubt it was she who whispered into my sunbaked friends heads..."bypass showering & go to her." Mike...make her laugh." "Dear Boy, just swallow the oddness & sit with her" "Mr. Keyes...don't let her slack off & DON'T treat her with kidd gloves."
My mom might have left us too soon, but she made sure she stuffed that hole with friends, hope, music and experiences that would sop up the oozing pain. How relieved she must have felt when friends and adults tucked me under their wings. How giddy she felt when anyone looked at her daughter & asked......
"Hey, do you want to talk about your mom?"
And I wonder how she must feel when I remember her with stories.
which bears no relation to true immortality but through which they continue to
2 comments:
Love you.
Get used to it.
Because I do.
Thank goodness for the kindness of other people. At my grandmother's viewing my aunt stood with her arm against the edge of the casket just visiting with people like she was leaning up against a car. It was horrid.
My cousin who is about 10 years older than me pulled me aside and gave me a great big hug and then we also stood there and laughed and made fun of things. It was a much needed tension break.
Viewings suck. I don't go if at all possible. Just straight to the funeral for me, thank you very much.
I'm so glad you have so many beautiful pictures of your mom. I hope they lessen the memory of what she looked like in death. Death doesn't look good on anyone. But your mother's spirit, I am SURE, is absolutely FABULOUS.
Just like you.
My Mom had gotten a really bad haircut and was so pissed off about it. The next week . . . she has a major heart attack and dies instantly. I remember my sister saying: "Mom would just die if she saw what she looked like!" It was a much needed break in all the tension and we laughed until we cried. Needless to say . . . we had a picture of our beautiful (less butch looking) Mom near her casket at the viewing.
Thanks for your honesty in sharing your feelings. I'm glad you had good friends to take care of you!
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