Last year was challenging, mostly for the ungoing health problems of my family.
This year is starting out on the wrong foot, too.
My husband’s brother, after a long hospitalization and hospice care, died on January 23. It was anticipated, although my husband remained hopeful until that last week. As he and his wife were not Catholic, he is being cremated and a Celebration of Life is planned for early summer.
I hadn’t thought much about the differences in Christian rites before. Cremation and a Memorial service is becoming increasingly common in our culture; even my friend, Coleen, who died around this time last year, had that form of burial.
It does make some sense, with family being spread around the country/world, and, during Covid, forbidden to gather in groups for an extended time. But I’d never before thought of the downside of this practice.
We don’t gather after the death, bringing food and sympathy. We are not part of the process, helping with errands, talking to others who are grieving, shepherding the family through the events.
We grieve alone, or with a few family/friends. We are isolated. With no structure to our days, what point is there in getting up? Unlike a wake/funeral/gathering, we do not exist in a bubble of separation from work and life demands. We are expected to plod forward with no break.
Oh, sure, your boss may say, “Take as long as you need,” but, without the need to handle the arrangements and attend a funeral, people will head back to the office ASAP. You’ve temporarily put off the ritualized process, but have nowhere to go with your grief.
The thing is, we need to cry until we are dry. We need to reminisce, hear the stories about that person’s life, and unload that emotional burden.
We need to grieve. Not put things off until it’s more convenient. Death is NEVER convenient.
In other news, my eldest daughter, the Felician sister, will be having open heart surgery to replace a valve and repair an aortic aneurysm. She will be coming into town February 27, and staying with family until the surgery. It will be the first time we’ve had extended time with her in months, and I plan to enjoy it.
She’ll be staying with her sister after the surgery and release from the hospital (I’m assuming that she won’t need skilled nursing care – they don’t anticipate an unusually difficult recovery – but, it’s Cleveland Clinic. Good surgeons, lots of experience with hearts, but they been said to act somewhat like the Army after an operation – “Get on your feet, soldier, and start making your bed – hospital corners!”).
She will be in town on the west side of Cleveland – closer to the hospital than our house – for a few weeks. Then, a few weeks at home, then back to work.
Waiting for it all may be the hardest part (I hope).
2 comments
You’re not wrong. Mom died 6 years ago, cremated, ashes sat in an urn at their house.
Dad died 2 years ago, cremated, now his ashes sit in an urn on a shelf in my sister’s closet next to Mom. Never had a ‘service’ or anything, their wishes for the permanent treatment of the ashes not followed through, I suspect my nieces will inherit the ashes when my sister passes.
I’ve certainly grieved, but, yeah, there’s no closure like when I’ve buried grandparents. There’s just this emotional wound that festers.
Hubby was cremated also. Lots of reasons why but they have many options for ashes now. My hubby liked nature. So we’ll all be going into the soil of a tree. Multiple companies to look at for that option. We picked a tree that have long life spans. Plant it where you want or donate it to forest or a lake area around you. We have a lake where we’ve got permission to plant our tree. You send the ashes and they will mix with the soil and send you the tree you picked out. Also you can put the urn at the base of their parents as some cemetery’s now allow this. Research all the different means. Donate it to forest or a lake area At some point the nieces children, these will have lost meaning and these will get sold at a garage sale.