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Sometimes in the midst of grief, there are some special moments that warm your heart and help carry you through. Recently my mother died after 85 years of living life to its fullest. She was ready to die and faced her last days calmly and with a sense that it was time. Somehow that made it easier for us all I think, knowing she was ready and not afraid. But really how she faced death and how she lived her life are the subject for another diary. I really want to talk about the little things that happened that helped me. So follow me below the squiggly line...
First my boss and the project managers on the projects I was assigned to work on were all terrific. They made it easy for me to go home when I needed to - both the week end before she died and for the funeral. They took care of eveything at work and made it clear I should take as much time as I needed. In this day and age, not everyone is so lucky - my nephew couldn't take any time off of work at all without risking losing his job. So thank you so much for understanding that there are times when work isn't the most important thing.
Next my coworkers took care of me. They gave me phone calls and hugs and chocolate. They prayed for me and cried with me. One even gave me the necklace she was wearing, a gesture which comforted me as I drove home knowing my mom would probably not still be alive when I got there. Every time it threatened to overwhelm me, I held that necklace and knew that people cared about me. I even got an email from our VP (when Karl died, the different person who held that job didn't even acknowledge it for weeks and then only because I broke down crying in front of him and he could no longer avoid noticing). When I returned they gave me a sympathy card that contained almost 200 in cash.
My friend drove 50 miles to bring me dinner the first week I was back so I didn't have to cook. And she made a really complex recipe too, something that took a couple hours to prepare (I know because I gave her the recipe orginally).
My sister's college roommate came up and helped us set up the funeral. She helped both of us get through a trying day.
During the funeral, my great niece was sitting behind me looking sad. I gave her hand a squeeze and mouthed "I love you" and she mouthed it back. It was a sweet moment in the the midst of pain.
My mom was a big proponent of reading to children. So we had, many years earlier, decided to read Green Eggs and Ham at her funeral. I called my two great nieces up to the front of the church and, much to the discomfort of the minister (who had not been at all thrilled when we told him this plan), read an abridged version of the book to them. Even though it was at a funeral, it was a magical moment that I will always treasure. Later many people told me it was one of the most touching moments they had seen in a funeral as I read, in my mothers place, that one last time for her. And lots of people also mentioned it was one of their favorite books too.
So even in the midst of pain, there can be special moments and things that touch your soul. I've learned from my mom's death and Karl's that the little things are so important. They can be the one thing that day that keeps someone going when all else is dark and frightening.