The final good-bye

When Ambra and I went to pick up my mom's ashes after she was cremated, I realized that there was a sticker with the name, Bernice Shirley, on the urn they gave to me.  Turns out that they put the wrong ashes in our mom's urn (which was engraved with her name), and after I pointed that out, they did a little switcheroo and all was fine. Honestly, we knew my mom would have loved this! So I could only giggle when my sister found Bernice's obituary online and sent it to me-

Why do I think Bernice was a chubby black lady? 

Anyway. 

Friday morning my drive from CT to MA was no joke. I couldn't believe the horrible condition of the roads still, and was so thankful that I didn't attempt to make it in late Thursday night. Thank you God. 

I made it to the Chocksett Inn, where Brian spent the night before, with minutes to spare before my sister arrived and we were off.... 

This is the Chocksett Inn, minus the snow!

I quickly passed off the kids, and all our bags to Brian and jumped in the car with Ambra. Sara had sent me with some moonshine- and while we drove from place to place that day, we'd take a shot. 

The moonshine was actually tasty (maple flavored) but it was our to-do list that left us with a bad taste in our mouths.... But, at least we had each other. (And the moonshine.)

First up- funeral home. Ambra and I at first tried to do all of this on our own, trying to avoid the cost of a involving a funeral home. As it was, mom was already cremated in California and Ambra had the ashes, and would be traveling with them from Cali to Mass. How hard could this be? So I contacted the cemetery, church and florist. Done, right? Well, not quite. I realized we needed a middle man, and that is where having a funeral home involved is such a luxury. And boy are we ever so glad we chose to work with Tom, from Philbin-Comeau Funeral Home. 

My mom is from a small town, Clinton, MA. While there might be a lot of bars, and Catholic churches, there are "only" two funeral homes. We chose the right one. And its beautiful- 

Now picture it with a foot of snow!

After we left there, we went to meet with the Priest. You probably shouldn't have a shot of moonshine in the rectory parking lot. We are sinners. Gotta love a small town though, get this- my sister and I had been going back and forth about how my mother's middle name was spelt- for the death certificate, the urn, etc. We shared this with the priest, and he simply said "let me go check. We have all the baptismal certificates right here." Ambra was correct. 

Then we went to the florist. Then we met with my cousin to finalize decorations. Then we went to the  luncheon location to finalize the menu. Moonshine. Moonshine. Moonshine. 

Friday evening Ambra's boyfriend's parents had us all over for dinner. Ambra's family (all 3 of her kids and her her granddaughter had flown in) and my family too. It was a great evening of simply family, delicious homemade spaghetti sauce and friends. My kids loved having Brooklyn time- 

Friday night we went back to the inn and I kind of lost it. To be expected I suppose.

Saturday morning I woke up and decided I couldn't do this. I couldn't get myself dressed, find breakfast for the kids, and where was Tate's belt? Brian took over like the champion he is. If he could have curled my hair for me, he would have...

We met up with Ambra's family at the funeral home before the funeral at the church, along with my Aunt Judy and Uncle Foot/George. It was a beautiful hour together there, praying together, going over everyone's scripts and having quiet alone time to say our good-byes.

They set up a small room with pictures of my mom, her urn and all the flowers that had been sent.

Oh Tate.

The funeral home did an amazing job taking care of every single detail. It was the first time since my mom had been hospitalized back in August that I felt like we weren't fighting for her anymore. Finally we had help. 

So much so that when we pulled into the parking lot, it was cleared of snow and there were 4 attendants (looking sharp) just waiting for us to arrive, to park our cars, to escort us quickly out of the bitter cold. 

And then it was time. And I lost it again. Brian and I were the lead car in the procession from the funeral home to the church downtown, a quick 5 minute drive. So that means we followed the hearse. So as I sat in the front seat, all I could see out the front window was the car carrying my mom's ashes along the streets that she grew up on, the streets that she walked as a teenager, the streets where she dreamed the dreams she once held so dear to her heart...

And then we arrived at St. John's Church and it was sweet, and scary, and awkward, and cold and warm and all the other mixed up feelings I had while I was there...

My sister gave a very beautiful, courageous eulogy. My aunt and I did a reading. My sisters' kids brought up the gifts. And the show stopper? 10 year old Tate. My son, quiet and introverted, got up in front of the gigantic Catholic church, and read loudly:

Ecclesiastes 3New International Version (NIV)

A Time for Everything

3 There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

2     a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3     a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
4     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6     a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7     a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8     a time to love and a time to hate,

    a time for war and a time for peace.

Can you even see him taking the podium?

How many adults can even say "Ecclesiastes?" This kid can-

It was a beautiful service. And then it was done. The worst part I'd have to say was leaving the church. The family goes first, so you walk by all the pews as you leave- and you recognize people. Oh hey Aunt Jo! Wow, there is Jennie from Mill St! Is that Mike from 8th grade? It was weird trying not to give a little wave or wink, and trying to remain rather somber. And that aisle is LONG! But I was relieved this part was over. Not that I was looking forward to the next part...

Again, Brian and I were the first car, following the hearse, to the cemetery. I honestly did okay on that 5 minute drive. And as we pulled into the cemetery, a fresh 3 inches of snow on the ground that had fallen just that morning, it hit me- mom would have loved this! The cemetery looked pristine. It was so fitting for her final resting place on this exact day. There are no coincidences.... This major, debilitating,  snowstorm was simply meant to be. 

When we arrived, the funeral attendants had given us all a rose to put on the urn. Brooklyn....

I didn't take pictures. It never even crossed my mind to take pictures. That's what best friends are for. My sister's best friend Sue took photos, and my best friend Sara took photos. Neither one knew they were the unofficial historian for our family that day, they just quietly did what they would want done for themselves...

And I love that this picture was captured. You always wonder who will show up when you die, right? Ambra and I had a short list, but this woman was not on it-

Turns out she was my mom's high school typing teacher! She saw my mom's obituary in the paper, and remembering her, wanted to come to her funeral to pay her regards to us. Small town for sure.

After the funeral came the tough part, if you can believe that.

Remember at your wedding when you had to "Work the room?" Well, you have to do the same at a funeral. And I hated it. I mentioned this to my cousin, who lost her dad several years ago, and she told me that she actually left. Just couldn't do it, and went home. If I lived closer, I may have done that...

The location we chose for this party- which is what my mom wanted, a party- was at my cousin's cousin's restaurant. It is in a historic building "up-town," which is a significant location in Clinton, MA. As a teenager, my mom would go "up-town" just to hang out in front of all the store fronts each afternoon or evening. She always told the story of having her pet snake in her pocket one day when a police officer told her no littering... she showed him her snake and never was told to go home again! I  did love looking out the windows that afternoon and just thinking of her hanging out front with friends as in her teenage years...

Thankfully, my cousins had taken care of all of the details for us- down to the table decorations and balloons. My long time bestie, Allyson, did all the flowers along with her mother, who made the gorgeous cake. And Sara took care of my kids. And Chris made me a plate of food. And Ambra's high school best friend made sure Brian and I had drinks in hand always, and my kids had Shirley Temples and Roy Rogers galore. It was brutiful....

And my husband. He made an amazing slide show with hundreds and hundreds of pictures that played the entire time. And he gave the most amazing toast to my mother. She loved him. He loved her. It was so fitting that he stepped up to do this in her honor....

Kids? Oh right. Bellied up to the bar!

But only after Sara and Chris fed and entertained them-

Apparently Brian got sick of waiting for a drink-

Wondering now if there were any Keno winners that day? My mom was a bit of a gambler, so she probably would have celebrated right along with them! 

YUM! I only wish we'd have gotten a cake this size to take home with us.... 

Mrs Rockwell made the cake, and she is something of a second mom to both Ambra and I, as we have known her since I was in Kindergarten. She was reading to my mom on speaker phone when my mom took her last breath.... Turns out she had a family emergency of her own to attend to the weekend of my mom's funeral, so she wasn't even there with us.

Ambra was really great at working the room, and getting pictures. Me- not so much. Here she is with her Godmother, my mom's long-time BFF, Debbie, who came out to Cali several times in my mom's final months, and came up from NC for the funeral. Looks like Debbie is crying, nope- just laughing! Just as my mom would want it...

Almost all the cousins-

Ooops- here are two more!

Only cousin Harry was missing that day... 

And Ambra did great getting other family members (that I honestly don't know....) too- 

I know these two- Jake, oldest grandchild, and Brooklyn- only great-grandchild

My mom's favorite aunt, Aunt Jo-

Relative, relative, relative, Ambra, Gram Bev, her daughter Donna (step-sister to my mom)

Ambra, Aunt Karen, Uncle Brad and our Dad

And everybody's favorite- my mom's brother, the teddy bear- Uncle Foot/George-

And then suddenly, it was over. The room spun throughout the 4 hours. It was full of strangers, it was full of familiar faces. It was easy, it was forced. It was nothing I ever want to have to do again...

I liked the end. It was my people. The Leadbetter's and The Mederios'- and drunk sister. Do you see her photo bombing?

Here we go. These are my people. (and my husband sans uniform)

Allyson left earlier than I wish she had. If only she could have been in this picture too. I know my mom is smiling down, thankful I have such wonderful girlfriends in my life....

Saturday night we were spent. But, we couldn't be. Not yet. My sister wanted us to head out for a night on the town with friends. Tracey wanted us to come back to her moms house for a final-final. And we knew we had to get on the road to make the long trek home Sunday morning at the crack of dawn... Plus- I had long ago said I wanted my grandmother's hope chest. 3 years ago I had come to pick it up, and it wouldn't fit in my car... So we had decided that we'd rent UHaul trailer and tow it home with us this trip, as my uncle was ready to have it gone after storing it for 10 years!

So we needed to drive 25 minutes away to grab the trailer, and then go tony uncles to load the piece of furniture. In the dark. In the cold. With over a foot of snow on the ground. Awesome. 

As we are driving, text are coming in from my uncle and aunt.... Do the kids like cheese or pepperoni pizza? Have they seen the Lego Movie? IPA or Hefeweizen? Red or White wine? 

Thank you God. Again, it was like someone was reaching out to help us. We didn't have to adult. We didn't have to make the decisions. We got the trailer, and as we pulled up to their house- my uncle told Brian to get out and he'd even back the car down his long driveway!

We had such a fun night with them. My two cousins and their relatively new spouses came over too. I hadn't gotten to catch up with them much at the reception after the funeral, so it was just perfect. I hated to see the night end.... We tried to get a picture of us all before we had to leave, and while it's not the best- it captures all our smiles, and that speaks volumes...

Since that night my Uncle (who is also my Godfather) has been regularly checking in with me, and I know that just would put a smile on my face! Brian and I both agreed that it was the perfect ending to  our weekend tribute to my mom...

Here is their crazy dog- 

And I say crazy because she is. If you look at her, she will pee on you. Only my mom had the patience for her. They would buy my mom a plane ticket to fly from Cali to Mass, to dog sit for her so they could go on vacation.... Maybe we are all a little nutty?

All I know is on our drive home Sunday, I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders. I was still in a gloomy place, and missed my mom terribly- but I no longer had the bricks piled up on my sternum like I had the past 6 weeks. I knew we did my mom right. My dad called later that week and it was a terrible connection. He quickly said, "just wanted to let you know your mom would have loved that..."

Okay, done. All smiles.