Thanks to all who stopped by this thread in the last two days. My head is spinning with everything going on right now, so I’m glad of having decided to close the shop for the rest of the week. The funeral is today.
Interesting times. We wondered how weddings and funerals were handled in a pandemic; well I guess we’re finding out about one of those. The mortuary is out altogether. The cemetary is closed. Mom had a pre-need arrangement, so the cemetary must make an accommodation. They will open a side gate at a predetermined time. There will be a checklist of attendees. When the Hearse arrives, we are to follow it, and get checked off the list.
In the Jewish tradition it is customary for mourners to toss dirt from the graveside onto the coffin after it is lowered into the ground. But because of Covid, the cemetary will not be providing shovels. So this is a BYOS event.
Where does this madness end?
As you might expect, I have slept poorly. Picked up my phone at 4 am to see that my sister texted at 11pm about me giving a speech at the graveside. Honestly, I put it out of mind when I was told the mortuary was cancelled. And yesterday was not the day of reflection it might have been for some.
I had already made plans two weeks ago to continue my distance training with a bike ride to Oceanside, 100 miles away. So the ride just became a memorial ride, complete with the memory of how upset my mom was when I crashed my bike and almost died 40 years ago, while she was away on vacation. I spent most of the ride just being in the here and now, occasionally telling my mom through teary eyes that I would be careful. But no speechworthy thoughts.
I come from a long line of storytellers, and I while I have bragged about my grandfather and my dad before, my mom was a good storyteller too. I am thinking I may just share the following later.
My mother was born and raised in a poor part of London, and grew up amidst the bombing raids of WWII. One morning after a bombing my mom was playing hide and seek with one of her cousins. She hid underneath one of the appliances in the kitchen, all of which had legs in those days. From her vantage she could see THROUGH the gap under the door, and could tell there were a number of people standing across the street from their house.
She and her cousin went outside and saw that all the people were looking at their house. So they went across the street. From there, they could see that a bomb had landed squarely in their chimney!
It wasn’t her day to die.
