I have been tweeting bits from this trip, but not really blogging; we've mostly had a constant crowd of people over, so I haven't had the time to collate my thoughts.
There was a funeral, full of people I haven't seen since I was about seven, most of whom I did get reintroduced to, some of whom I had to fake it with. As is often the case with such things. My aunt and uncle both spoke at the funeral. My uncle's speech was brief and heartfelt. My aunt... not so much. But okay.
They lowered Grandma's coffin, and we did the first-shovelfuls-of-dirt thing; Mom and my uncle, Dad and my aunt, then me (I'm the oldest grandchild). As I went back toward my seat, Mom grabbed my hand and kept me up next to her.
And just did not let go. Terrified grip on my hand the entire rest of the time.
At a Jewish funeral, people form two lines for the principal mourners to walk through to begin their grieving process. This is supposed to just be my mom and uncle. But Mom had my hand held fast, so I walked through with her - not side-by-side, even, but tugged along in her wake. The lines broke into clumps afterward, and she began the process of hugging people... on-armed, because she still had my hand clenched tight in hers. She would hug people, then I would, and I don't know if she even noticed that she was dragging me behind her at this point. I exchanged helpless glances with my sister. And, well, if that's what Mom needs, that's what Mom needed. She needed to hold onto me.
I have never been the comfort person for my mother. If you asked me if that might ever happen, I'd've laughed. But I am, for this.
The cousins have all gone home at this point. We're going to Grandma's apartment today, my parents and aunt and uncle and I, to clean out the fridge and start packing up personal effects. That will be pretty intense and awful.
I am thankful for felis_demens
, and maxymyllyn
for being here when they've been able, for distracting me and getting me out of the house and bringing me to safe food and, well, All the Things.
And in the middle of all of this, there have been some hilarious freakin' moments. Like yesterday. Felis and I were talking in the corner of the living room, and I heard my mother say "MILF? What's that?"
Well. Instantly, they had our attention.
So I got to watch my uncle explain what MILF stands for to my mother, my aunt, and my mother's friend. They took a while to get it, just because my uncle was unwilling to say "fuck". "Mother I'd like to..."
"Like to what?"
"What?" They were genuinely perplexed.
"Mother I'd like to..." and he mouthed the word "fuck", being unwilling to say it aloud.
"WHAAAAT?!? Why do people say that? Is that a thing? WHAAAAT?"
And my mom's friend took longer to understand, and had to clarify. "Mother I'd like to..." and she put her hand in front of her face to keep the young people from noticing that she was whispering "fuck".
Reader, I literally laughed myself to tears.
The older folks turned on me, Felis, and my brother-in-law Steve who'd been resolutely ignoring them. "DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?!?"
Me and Felis: "Yep."
Steve: "Yeah, but I wasn't gonna tell
So that happened.