Burial of Mom and Neil

The day after Margaret's First Holy Communion, we hosted the burial of the cremated remains of my mother, who died six years ago, and my stepfather, who died nine months ago.

This coordination of events seemed like a good idea so that various family members who were in town could attend both, but I surely had some panicky moments throughout about how much organization and focus it took for me to "pull it all off"! In the background of it all was that the two littlest boys and I had had sickness and laryngitis running through us for ten days at that point.

You know, this was my first time hosting a burial--the verb 'hosting' doesn't seem quite right but I haven't found a better one--and it's a funny thing what thoughts of death do to a person, even when separated by time from the deaths themselves. The night before the burial, I didn't fall asleep till 3:00 a.m. because I was paranoid that our baby would die. I would lie in bed, trying to sleep, and start thinking that maybe the baby was dead in his crib. When the worries finally overcame me, I'd sneak to his crib, place my hand on him to check if he was breathing, and be reassured. Back in bed, I'd start worrying again that maybe I hadn't really felt proper breathing, maybe he was really dead, and what would I do if my baby died the night before my mom and stepfather's burial?! I knew it was foolish, so I'd hold off as long as I could, before I'd go check the baby's breathing again. Repeat ad nauseum till I'd had only three hours of broken sleep on the day of the burial.

Sunflowers were Mom's favorites

Our pastor officiated

Me and my "genetic mother," Auntie, my mother's identical twin

Chris holding David

Mary (9) took fussy David during the burial

Given that my parents lived 3,000 miles away from here, I thought a burial would be a private affair with only my own family and aunt present, so my heart was incredibly warmed that nearly 40 Catholic brethren came together to pray for and love on these souls.

After the burial, we went to a nearby restaurant for a luncheon in a private room, which was an excellent arrangement for a group with 23 children present!

I set out a table of memorabilia: some framed photos, their wedding album, what I believe was the last photo album my mother ever assembled (that of our firstborn son, 11 years ago), and copies of their newspaper obituaries.

Honestly, it scrambled my brain to have two such opposing milestones--a First Holy Communion and a burial--back to back and I'm still unraveling from it all. Even the night after the burial, I slept only about two hours due to anxiety. I wish I could share something profound, but I remain mostly in unmoored quietude about it all.

In your charity, I ask you to pray for the repose of the souls of Lisa and Neil.