Mom’s Funeral ~ Part 2

There’s just one or two more important (to me) things that I want to write about before ending off this chapter in time, of my mom’s passing.
 
6 November 21 (two days before my mother’s funeral)
I sent a WhatsApp voice message to my new-found cousin Mandy (adapted and expanded slightly to add clarity for the reader of my blog post)
Hi Mandy, something strange happened this morning… my youngest son was looking for something in one of the boxes, high up on the shelves in our garage, (in connection with his car.  Something he needed to give his brother to help sort out his car papers), anyway, that’s all he was looking for.  Next minute he comes through to me with this book, and it’s one that my mom had entered some personal journaling into. He didn’t know that, so why he came through with it, I will never know, but can only guess at.  Immediately, I felt that my mother obviously wanted me to see it, to remember some of the good things about her.  (Strangely, after a quick flip through the front of the book, I went straight to the back to see if there was anything there… no idea exactly why I did that, because there were many pages in-between that were empty). On the 2nd last page in the back of it, there’s and entry entitled “A Message for Those I Love” in her own handwriting.  She wrote this after a dream she had on the 9 June 1992.  Mandy, I believe that you are going to speak at our mom’s funeral, so if you’re interested in what our mother wrote, I can always email it to you.  Thank you so much for agreeing to speak at her funeral on the day that she leaves. I call it her special day, because she was so into reading obituaries, and stuff like that, I think she’s going to really enjoy her funeral-day.  Lots of love to you… Thank you. 
 
I sent Mandy a copy of my mom’s journal entry… her writing was always so beautiful to me.  I know that my mom fantasised about having royal blood and that’s why she spent a lot of time working on her handwriting, to perfect it, believing it would set her apart as someone special… someone Royal… and indeed her handwriting was something special and did set her apart in a meaningful way.

I had shared our mother’s letter with my sister too when I received it. 
 
Earlier, on the 5th November, we’d been discussing via WhatsApp, our strangely empty emotional state after hearing of our mother’s passing. 
 
My sister wrote:
Yeah, with mom, the sadness is over.  But I think of her lying on a big metal table with a tag on her toe for that many days.  (What Shev meant when she wrote this, was that “no matter how you lived your life, you still get to have a label on your toe and then wait your turn to be buried.  The Queen’s body will have to wait too.  A lesson in patience… lol.”)
 
She is so right!
 
Shev continued:
Mandy was asked to speak at our mother’s service, but wasn’t sure what to speak about, so I wrote this following note, perhaps to help her along.
 
I’m so thankful you have been given this task.  My mom would have loved to listen to the good words said about her.  One of my youngest memories would be of her reading sweet obituaries in the newspaper, the ones that would make her cry as she read them to us girls.  I think she would love to be a fly on the wall for her own funeral.  Thanx Mandy. Much appreciated!!
 
Mom would love the whole experience.  If she was sitting in a pew listening, I can imagine she would want to add to some speeches, would critique the flowers, coffin, who talked and who did not, how perfect the tea was laid out and presented and what people would be saying after the service about her.  If they said enough or too little… Haahahaaa!  She would have a ball.  Living her own obituary in a sense!!  At the end, it doesn’t matter whether it was a big or small funeral, you’re not there to enjoy it.  I always think of the three headstones from Logotherapy.  It’s not how you die, but how you live that counts.
 
(My sister had me laughing out aloud, because I had the same vision of my mother enjoying and orchestrating her funeral… as it seems she did in the end… too funny!  Shev always knew how to make me laugh).
 
After Shev mentioned the three headstones from a Logotherapy lecture given by Teria, I asked Teria via WhatsApp to repeat it in her words so that I could include it here:
 
The first headstone: A lament.  “Oh dear, here lies so-and-so, they never really lived.”  (People who die without any purpose and have just struggled all their lives and didn’t make it.
 
The second headstone: “Here lies so-and-so.  May they never live again.” (Because of all the horror that they perpetrated during their lives).
 
The third headstone: The ecce homo that Viktor Frankl encouraged us all to strive towards.  On this third headstone would be written, “What a wonderful person this was and what a positive impact they made on the lives of others.”  And then Frankl said, our mission as an ecce homo community is to reach out to those who can’t find their purpose in life and who are struggling to do so, and to resist and stand against those perpetrators that cause such people to lose their way and have dampened their spirits, to the point of perhaps even crushing it. 
 
Ecce homo meaning:  Behold the man.
 
When I shared our mother’s handwritten letter with my sister, she responded (and I love her response so much!)
 
Wowzer!!  Mom did think about death quite a bit.  I believe she wanted to be remembered.  If you saw the movie Coco, you will see the Mexican’s celebrate the day of the dead.  They put up little booths with mostly orange and yellow marigolds, candles and pictures of their passed loved ones, so no one that has passed on is ever forgotten.  I like that tradition, so next year, will add mom to the list of those that will not be forgotten.  She would have liked that. 
 
My thoughts on what my sister shared
I also know she would like that very much… I identify greatly because when one grows up with the “invisibility spell” cursing their lives (something that I believe is very much part of many adult survivors of child abuse, and I believe my mother suffered from it too), wanting to be seen (as a somebody) and to be remembered becomes an extremely important factor in one’s life and thought processes.  I don’t read obituaries like my mother obsessed about, but I have fantasised over my funeral and hope that it will be a big one also, with many people in attendance.  That would surely prove I was a somebody… I was seen… I was visible when I lived. I have already written about what songs I want sung at my funeral… white balloons for my inner children to be released at my graveside… anybody who wants to speak must be given the opportunity to do so, even if the service takes a good few hours… and it all must be recorded… there must also be a book for people to write their good thoughts about me in , etc.
 
9th November 21 (the day after my mother’s funeral)
My cousin Mandy wrote via WhatsApp re: My mom’s funeral
Today went beautiful and there were so many people there which was lovely.  And there was also a tribute read out on behalf of Jonathan which was lovely. And I used the letter your mom wrote after her dream in my part of it as well.
 
Mandy also sent photos from my mother’s funeral.  It meant so much to me that she lovingly cared enough and took the time to do that for my sister and I.
 
I responded:
How kind of you to let us know dearest Mandy.  I’m so glad she got the send-off she had always dreamed of.  How wonderful! And I’m glad you included the letter she wrote also.  That letter came to us just after Shev and I spoke (with a smile), of her orchestrating her own funeral, so we knew she wanted it read and I’m glad you could do that for her.  Thank you so much and bless you.
 
Mandy responded:
Oh, you’re more than welcome.  It felt right and was quite poignant that it was read at her funeral.  There was another passage someone else read and they also said that they felt she was the one who showed it to them to be read. 
 
I responded:
My mom made sure she went out with a BANG 😊 It’s something I totally identify with for my own “Bon Voyage” day, so I’m really happy for her that she had her “Big Day” and it went off so well. Wonderful, and I’m so grateful to all involved.”
 
The handwritten letter read at my mother’s funeral was on the 2nd last page of her journal… I would still like to write what was on the last page which really hit home to me from a logotherapeutic perspective especially.  I will share that as soon as I have time again... TIME... shew! I have a presentation to present to the Israeli Logotherapy students on Wednesday which I need to prepare fully for... my oldest son and family arrive on Thursday for a visit... so much to do and think about... I'm not sure when I will have time to write here again, but will try soon as I still have so much to share.  I cannot rest until it is all safely recorded here.  I have to find time!
 
Thank you for sharing with me.
 
~ Panayiota