A Funeral

My Father no longer drove and rather than them have to get a taxi on the the day of the funeral, the wife of my Husband`s cousin very kindly said she would pick them up and drop them back afterwards. Again, the day was a blur with a handful of harrowing snapshots etched into my memory. Shock and grief so often become entwined.

 The only thing I remember about arriving was catching sight of a group of girls from my work, the last time I had seen them they were waving me off with a car full of baby gifts and a heart full of hope. They came over and shared hugs and tears and as I looked up I saw a line of mourners, familiar faces, family and friends all looking at me, all there to watch me bury my Son and in that moment reality broke through the fog of grief and I could not keep my composure, I dropped my head on my closest mates shoulder and sobbed. Just as I looked away from those people and gave into my grief I remember seeing my Father standing with them, watching me closely, he was glowering.

In events after the funeral he later told me with a voice full of hate how he saw me `putting it on for effect`

 As we began to group together to go in, my MIL was one side of me and my Mother the other. Do I really need to explain again how dazed I was, how surreal all this felt.....I remember this, my Mother reached out to my arm and as I looked to the side I saw a piece of white thread on my elbow, at the same time she was reaching to pick it off I just happened to shrug my elbow slightly, by way of shaking it off as well, I did it absent mindedly, my thoughts elsewhere, it was a meaningless micro gesture. 

It is later twisted around by her that I shrugged her away as she went to reach out to me.

I watch as my Husband carries my Son`s tiny white coffin in and places it at the alter for the service. I do not take my eyes off it the whole time. Later as he passes it to be placed in the grave I make him stop, in a panic I see fluff from a duster that had been used to polish his name plate, I pick it off, it feels like something a Mom would do, its all I can do for him now.

Afterwards I watch people milling about reading the flower cards and some come over and try to reach out, offer condolences, offer comfort. I see my Parents way over on the very edge of the group, facing away. A family member asks my FIL who those two over there are, Amanda`s parents he says....NEVER ! They haven`t even been near her....comes his shocked reply.

At some point it was noted they had left without saying good bye, without saying anything. When we were the last ones there I was encouraged to come away, it rained later on. I didn`t like that, I wanted to know if he would be covered up by then. And when darkness fell that night I didn`t like that either. In the days that followed we hear a sorry tale relayed from the cousins wife who took my parents home. It must of been so awkward for her. It seems that my Mother had a full blown histrionic rage, points of which being that they had.....been ignored, snubbed, no one had bothered speaking to them or offered her their condolences as the bereaved Grand Mother, I had always been trouble, a very naughty girl, I had no thought for them, I had shrugged my Mother off, no one had given them any consideration...oh and they had paid for my wedding.....???!!! I have no doubt there was more, much more and this was just the edited version, probably given as a courtesy, heads up warning. My Mother was very distressed and my Father enraged was the general message.

Of course they were. It was hardly likely to play out with any normal behaviour. Them showing empathy, love and concern. {You`ll forgive me discounting my Husband, the bereaved Dad for a moment, but this concerns just my parents and me} Even on my wedding day I was not able to out rank her but, the day I buried my Son, no one, no one could out rank me as the bereaved Mother, its role no woman wants, surely. And such is the unimaginable pain for a woman who has carried a child who dies, she becomes centre stage in sympathies extended. And Dear Little Amanda well and truly stole the limelight from her Mother that day. Had she stayed close to me then naturally she would of been introduced to people and no doubt they would of paid their respects to her but by abandoning me she unwittingly gave up any acknowledgement of her role as bereaved Grand Mother. She of course did not see it that way.