Writing This Day Off the Books
Saturday, December 08, 2012
The blog post that follows is really sad.
Today was yucky. It started off well enough. Saw one of my favorite customers and then headed out to pick up my friend to go to the funeral of one of my favorite church ladies who always sits right behind us in church. When I got there to pick up my friend, she had the days mixed up and couldn't go. So, I headed out to the funeral home by myself.
Here's where it gets bad.................. I got there an hour early and NO ONE was there except the funeral director who could not have cared less that I was there. And then I see it. The open casket in the viewing room. I was really scared. So I went to the bathroom. When I came out, I gave myself a pep talk and reminded myself how nice it was to say goodbye to my Grandma. So I walked into the room and approached the casket. I was about a foot from her. I was frozen. I was horrified and for some reason, I could not tear my eyes away from her. I was searching desperately for something, anything that looked like her. I finally locked eyes on her wedding ring and was able to rip myself from the trance. I backed away and then had to fight to keep myself from running screaming from the place.
I got out to the car and just sat there. I turned the key and the next thing I remember was walking into my friend's workplace and knocking on the door. She was at the desk and she layed eyes on me and was on her feet immediately. She threw her arms around me and I broke down. All I kept saying was, " It wasn't her. It wasn't her."
She got me calmed down and got me where I could speak without hitching. (sometimes it really helps to have a best friend who is 17 years older)
I can't explain what happened. My grandma looked like she was sleeping. Berniece looked dead. Plain and simple. I am traumatized. I have prayed for God to remove the image from my mind and, thankfully with praise to God, I am unable to recall anything except her wedding ring. That and the lingering emotions tied up with the whole experience.
Whose idea was it for people to look at dead bodies????? I don't understand and I will NEVER NEVER do it again. I get the whole bit about saying goodbye but no more for me. I would rather remember her when she was alive and smiling at me from her seat in the sanctuary. Her warm hugs and the smell of her soft perfume. How we prayed for each other after the sermons a lot of the time. I will stand on the truth that she is alive and well with Jesus.
I am a forty year old woman who was reduced to a child today. Can someone please help me find the life lesson in this mess?????