About three months after Jimmy died my good friend Henry’s father passed away. I needed to be there for him and his family even though it broke up my routine of staying home and feeling sorry for myself.
It was bad enough walking up the steps to the funeral home but it was impossible for me to cross the threshold into the room where the body was laid out. I tried. I willed my legs to step forward.
Just like my kids, they paid no attention to me.
My body reacted like Whoopi Goldberg in the movie “Ghost” when her fingers locked onto the huge check as she struggled to hand it to the nun. My legs had a ‘Whoopi moment.’
Henry was aware that it was ‘too soon’ and he and many other friends stood outside the lobby area with me. Even the widow came out to say ‘Thanks for coming.” To someone passing by it must have looked like a major turnout, an overflow of people waiting to pay their respects.
It was simply “Poor Widow Me” surrounded by love and understanding.
My girlfriend had just lost an uncle she was very close to at the time my mother died. My friend and her husband came to my mother's funeral. However my friend was unable to come inside. Apparently this is an interesting phenomenon.
ReplyDeleteMy husband was the choir director at our church and I am one of the cantors. As part of my job, I sing weddings and funerals. I have only sung one since he died and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Luckily, I have not been asked to sing anymore since then because I don't think I'm ready to do it still after 20 months.
ReplyDeleteby husband died in 2004, we were both 38 at the time, within one month of his death i was invited to funerals of two older, neighbor friends in the same funeral home. I could not get myself to attend to pay respects to the families. To this day, the smells, the settings, the sometimes silent viewing rooms take me back to that moment. i don't think it ever gets easy
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