Closing In...

I can't believe I've only written one blog so far this month. Now part of that is because I wrote a short story as well but it was for submission so it will be a late post here once it's rejected. I mean I will give you the link when it's accepted for the journal and posted there. (insert the winking face or the smirk face you can choose) The other is that we traveled last week. And the biggest is that October is here. The month we are finally having Mom's funeral.

So all of that "I'm fine, really" feeling is a little frayed at the edges. I mean, I really am fine, mostly. I'm better than I thought I would be. I'm still feeling like it's because Mom made her choice that I'm as okay with it all as I am. But at the same time after texting with my sister yesterday about next steps I spent all day playing a mindless game on my phone and nothing much else, even though I thought I SHOULD be doing something else. I told Brent last night that I even know why I'm doing it, I just don't want to think about the funeral. But I have to.

Next weekend is the service and Susan is going to give everyone in the family a packet of ashes from Mom and Dad and we can do with them as we choose. The boys and I are going to spread them on the east side of the mountain Sunday morning. It's where Mom said she wanted to be so for once I will do what she wants and take care of at least part of that. And it gives me chance to have a private moment to say goodbye. To her and to Dad. I didn't really do that when Dad died. I think I was waiting to do it all at once. Now it's time.

Susan also wants help sorting everything out. She thinks there are things we might want to take. This is making my skin twitch and I haven't even started yet. You all know that I have weird things around stuff. I don't want too much of it. Right now I have a lot of it and there is a part of me that wants to just throw everything out and live with bare walls and empty shelves. I know this is a reaction to the fact that I grew up with borderline hoarders. There was always too much stuff. My parents grew up without a lot of money and on the recovery side of the Great Depression. You didn't throw ANYTHING away. My father actually could turn all of those spare parts into useful things, so it was hard to argue.

And then coupled with that was my mother and her collections of things. I cannot tell you how many times I heard "This is going to be worth something someday" growing up. Figurines, books, jewelry, you name it, Mom had it. It took me a long time to be okay getting rid of things she gave me that "were going to be worth something someday." It's a tough mindset to break out of. First off, no it's probably not. And secondly, is that worth your own peace of mind today? And for me clear space is worth more.

So anyway, sorting through things in Albuquerque. I know I want one of her smaller owl figurines. Much like my father's ring, that's what I want to remember her by. I'm even considering a tattoo combining the two things. But I don't want anything else. I don't need anything else. Anything that is worth something now they can sell and use the money. It's not worth haggling over who gets what, or who was supposed to get what, or any of that to me. But Susan and Jeff have had to deal with everything else so I can go sort things for a couple of days to help.

So I will.

And I know some of it will bring back memories and some of those will be good and some won't. So I'm sort of bracing for it all already. Nothing like raking the bottom of the pond to stir up old feelings.

I also know that it is probably the last time we will all be together in one place. Mom was the center of our family and now that she's gone the center probably won't hold. I imagine when we see each other again it will be in small groups. We live in Oregon, Ashley and her family are in Florida. John and Ann are living there with her. Jesse is in, umm, Connecticut maybe, Jeff, Susan, David and Brian are still in Albuquerque. We are scattered. And honestly we don't all have much in common except blood. So I have to think this is the last time we will all be together and considering the last time before this was Dad's funeral I'd say that's a solid guess.

So I'm mourning that as well as mourning Mom. I tried to explain it to Brent the other night but he's an only child and absolutely has no reference for it. And he knows I prefer the small groups anyway so the idea of mourning an idea of a lot of people getting together is really outside of his area. But I have good memories of Thanksgivings and Christmases with 20+ people in one house. Playing games and eating and laughing. We haven't done that in decades, but when I was little it was fun. And that won't happen again.

And that's okay as well. Like I said, we don't have a lot in common. The odds of recreating those times would not be good. Getting through the weekend without a fight will be enough of a challenge. I mean there's already been one dust up around the service and the only thing that kept it from getting uglier was distance. I know the last time we were together I was rude to Ashley and had to apologize later so I'm hoping not to repeat that performance with new players. But...the idea of it is sad. The idea that we didn't grow up to be that TV close family is still a little sad to me. But we didn't. And now that Mom is gone we will mostly go our separate ways as well. Which is okay. We grew up to be very different from each other. We can love each other and not want to spend time together. I think that's probably more normal in families than you'd think.

And I also know that it's mostly me. I'm the black sheep in my brood. And I came to terms with that ages ago. It's just now that Mom is gone what that really means is setting in. She was the bridge for all of us to reach each other. "Do it for Mom." So we will get together one last time for Mom. And play nicely (hopefully) and get through it (definitely) and it will be fine.

I'm okay.
Still.
Sort of.

Ten days to go.