The blog is getting sad and it’s NOT QUITE DONE YET (one more funeral post + the game then tried to break my heart), so have this intermission.
Naomi and her mother when they were trying to find their style.
Day: March 18, 2019
Last Farewells to Gram
It’s the day of her funeral and Mom made sure we would send her off properly, with color and flowers, just like she would have wanted, just as she lived.
Mom is too shaken up to give the eulogy, so I step up to the altar for her. And I speak about Gram, about how important she was to me, to Noland and Miranda, to mom, to my grandmothers, including grandma Justine, who she adopted as her own daughter.
I remind everybody how she selflessly raised not only her own children but her two youngest sisters, on her own, when great-great-grandmother Ariana died.
The people who knew her best came today, including Mom’s childhood friends Marie, and Charlotte and Shanna, with their youngest kid. And some people in the back, two strange women I don’t recognize and who look incredibly snob. But Mom says they belong here.
I’m no artist, but using Gram’s easel helps.
Empty
The house feels quiet and just awfully wrong now. This first night I sleep in the bed that was mine again, it still feels like Gram is right there.
The dirty clothes pile up. Every day I make a point to make it to the shower, because the temptation is strong to just stay under the blankets.
Naomi
I know she was ready, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
The Stewarts Family (and other shenanigans) 