Eulogy

Today was rough. 

There were so many people there, people who loved my mom, and who she loved.  

This is what I read during the eulogy" 

“There is a sacredness in tears.  They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.  They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.  They are messengers of overwhelming grief… and unspeakable love.”

Washington Irving got that right.  My tears are not a sign of weakness.  They ARE messengers of grief and love.  They show in the physical sense, the grief I have within me.  They make my emotion of deep love visible to the naked eye. 

I think all of us can agree that Linda was a special woman.  We wouldn’t be here, gathered to remember her, if she wasn’t.  As I look around at all of your faces, I can’t help but think she was one lucky lady.  Just take a look around at all the people who loved her.  The more I think about it, maybe we were the lucky ones.  We were the ones embraced by her unconditional love and support.  I’m sure everyone one of us has “that one memory” or “Linda story” that stands out and will be remembered and cherished for all your years to come. 

She wore many different hats thought-out her life: Daughter, sister, wife, mother, nonnie, as well as: friend, coworker, mentor, confidant and problem solver.  No matter what hat she wore for you, she always wore it with a huge smile.

Ah, that smile.  How could you not love that beautiful smile.  It was virtually impossible to remain in a foul mood when she flashed that thing at you!  I’m often told that she will be remembered for her smile, but I will remember her for being my unconditional supporter. 

I ran everything past my mom.  The day I forgot Celli had a half day and left her hanging at school, I called mom.  I needed to know that I wasn’t the most horrible mother on the planet.   When I got a promotion at work, I called mom.  She was the first person I wanted to share my happiness with.  I wanted more than anything to be someone she could be proud of.  Even on our off days, she was there for me.  Everyone keeps saying, remember the good times, but you know what?  There is nothing I wouldn’t give for even one of the not so good times right now, just so I could be with her again. 

Vicki Harrison said, “Greif is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing .  Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming.  All we can do is learn to swim.”

This is so true of grief, but I have found that what Earl Grollman said continues that thought perfectly. “ Greif is not a disorder, a disease or sign of weakness.  It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love.  The only cure for grief is to grieve.”

Mom, you are greatly missed.  I would not be the person I am today without you.  I’m sorry I didn’t have more time with you, but I know you’re here, watching over your grandbabies.  I love you forever and always.

Walking With Angels

It is with great sadness that I start the next chapter of my journey... This time, without my mom here with me.  My mom passed away Saturday (the 6th), and I feel so... weird.

Weird is the only way I can describe this feeling.  Obviously, I'm sad.  Sad isn't even an accurate description for the amount of sad I am.  But I'm not just feeling sad.  I'm feeling, empty, lost, glazed, relieved...

The first couple days after her passing, I felt relief.  It was a good feeling to not have her suffering any more.  Sunday came and went.  I spent a lot of time with my dad and talking to my sister.  Monday I went back to work for a half day.  Took the afternoon with my dad to get the obituary submitted and run a few other errands. Tuesday was a different story.

The obituary came out in Tuesday's paper.  It has the most beautiful picture of her attached to it.  That was the day that it became real.  The feeling of relief started to fade and the sorrow started to kick in.  I started receiving messages about how great my mom was, and got to hear some fantastic memories of her.  This was the day that instead of being happy that the sick lady my mom had become was no longer in pain, I started to truly miss my momma.  The mom I have known my whole life.  The one person I want to call the most to talk about what I'm feeling right now.

I want nothing more than to hear her say she loves me one more time.  To have a hug.  To watch her love on my kids.  To hear her sing 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' to E.  That was the first song that E learned, because her Nonie taught her.  I just keep waiting for a sign that she's here with me.  It's killing me that I can't feel her here. 

I have been very lucky to have such a great support group through friends, co-workers, and friends that are closer than some of our family.  Thank you so much to all of you.  Your love and support has helped me tremendously. 

Linda McCray

1955-2018

Phone Lines Down

The last time I was able to speak to my mom on the phone was December 18th.   I used to talk to my mom on the phone multiple times a day.  Every time I had a question, did something I was proud of, wanted to share something about my kids, or just have a little chat- I called her.  Only her.  She was the one who I wanted to call.  I now sit by her bed and talk to her.  It's a very one sided conversation, but I will take all the opportunity that I have.  I  am losing one of my best friends.

Every step of this journey has opened my eyes even more.  I never imagined that my emotions could do this to me.  I've had 2 kids, and experienced some wild mood swings (just ask my husband about the hot dog incident!), and for me, this is is harder on my moods.

I have turned into a complete ass hole.  I am completely unable, most of the time, to find or give happiness.  Sadly, this seems to happen to the people who are taking the most care of me.  The people that I love the most, and appreciate more than I could ever express.  I hate being this way.  I don't do it on purpose, I just can't stop the nastiness from coming out of my mouth.  As soon as it leaves, I realize it's come out wrong.  I am so sorry to anyone that has been on the receiving end of this for trying to do something nice for me.  To my husband and kids: I do love and appreciate you, I'm just having a very hard time seeing past my own grief to act correctly.

I do appreciate the help and guidance I am getting from people who have been through this.  I told my husband that it's like a weird club I been put into.  I told my friend Char (who lost her momma many years ago 💜) and she said "It is like a secret club that you were initiated into but don’t want to be in it".  Boom!  Nail hit right on the head. Worst club I've ever been a part of, but most supportive group of people by far.  

Public Service Announcement #1... I am sorry in advance for snapping (or Sorry, not sorry), but I am completely unable to put up with stupid drama.  Drama llamas are my least favorite animal.

Public service announcement #2...  When you complain about your mom, or what she did, or how she's a pain, etc... Just remember, you have one.  Only ONE,  and it will not be the same when she's gone.  

 

Forging Forward Into the New Year

Thank you to everyone who has responded and reached out from my last post.  I truly appreciate all of your support.  I would also like to take this chance to mention to friends and family that, per mom's request, no visitors. 

Being an optimist (usually), one of my absolute favorite days to celebrate is New Years.  It feels like everything is brand new.  A blank page to continue our story on. Like a fresh blanket of snow has fallen on the muddy mess we've been living in. But...

In reality, we started 2018 in the same condition we left 2017.  Nothing is wiped away, problems are still there from the day before, that mud is still there, under the snow.  Resolutions are made, and quickly forgotten.  The only thing that happens is that we start counting the days over.

I was told the other day to not let what we're going through "harden" me.  I had been thinking about this the other day too.  I know it is.  I feel hard already.  This got me thinking though, have I always been hard?  I try to see a whole situation rather than a side, I tend to take the logical and realistic approach during a discussion.  I talk myself out of opinions I thought I had.  Sometimes my views and the way I express them, do come across as hard.  Maybe I'm not as optimistic as I thought I was. 

In one instance I worry that I'm too hard, and in the next I'm crying.  This is a hard process, and I just keep reminding myself: It's ok to feel however I need to.  Just like I told A, there is no right way to feel about what we're going through.

My advise- Don't judge a book by it's cover. I may be smiling sometimes, but the pain inside is beyond description.

*To anyone else who may have gone, or may be going through this... I feel for you.  I know it's feels like no one else understands how you feel, but there are some of us who do.  Reach out.