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The Bizarre Rituals For The DeadNov 18 '03 Write an essay on this topic.
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The Bottom Line Life goes on for the living, and grief brings out the oddities of human relations.
The aftermath has been oddly strange. My mother passed away at 3:56 pm on Friday, November 14, 2003. If there is one thing I will never understand it is the morbid rituals that surround a loved one's death. From the "death-watch" vigil to the gathering of people you haven't seen in 20 years afterwards, the whole process is uniquely human and totally strange. My mother held on for over 40 hours after her kidneys, bowels and liver shut down. I believe that this is because she knew I was there with my two youngest kids. There is no other way to explain how she managed this feat and yet, when I left with the kids to throw some laundry in the dryer (death or not, we were all in danger of having to run round nekkid) and pick up my oldest kid from school, she died within the two hours I was gone. Weird, huh? It seemed clear to me that she wished to spare me and my girls her last dying breath, but I really wanted to be there for it just the same. I missed her final breath by only 5 minutes, and all we could do was collapse by the bedside and share our grief with a body already growing cold. That night was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. The nurse asked if she should make arrangements for them to retrieve "the body". My grandmother said no, she'd like more time with it. She washed my mother's body and put a new gown on her and covered her with a bightly flowered sheet. However, after an hour, I had little choice but to call them to come because I could see that my grandmother would keep it there forever if I didn't. It took 4 people to forcibly remove her from the body and another 4 to remove her from the room so that they could get the body out. They asked me if they should cover her face, since some people don't like that. I said, "Of course, it's raining and I don't want her to get wet." I could only hope that they could read the forms I had to fill out because I was shaking so badly that I fear they were unreadable. It's really weird what goes through your mind during times like this. They told me to gather her burial clothes and I was getting her dress and shoes and then I grabbed a pair of underwear because it dawned on me that she wasn't wearing any. Is that weird, to not want your mother buried without underwear? My grandmother asked me if I had packed a bra too, but that didn't occur to me because she almost never wore a bra. The next bizarre ritual occurs when you go to the funeral home for "viewing". Mom looked peaceful and beautiful, like she'd wake up any second and start talking to you. I made sure she was holding a single red rose and bought my girls rose to put in with her. I might've overestimated my kids at that point, because they freaked out when they felt how cold she was. Of course, my oldest kept trying to hold her hand and was also disturbed by how stiff the body was and I had to explain rigor mortis and embalming and had to ask her to refrain from trying to move her limbs because she could cause damage to the body without really meaning to. Of course, the day took a turn from bizarre to surreal when I passed the next viewing room and noticed the name on the door. As it turns out, my mother's second husband's mother had died the same day as my mother and was in the next room. I saw my ex-step-grandfather outside the funeral home, and he stopped and asked me how I knew. I told him that my mom was in the next room and he broke down and sobbed and we told each other how sorry we were for the other's loss. The funeral director had to be told the story three times before he could wrap his head around the fact that the woman in room 2 had been the mother-in-law of he woman in room 1 for a time. Apparently it's a first for the funeral home. I know it was a totally weird experience for me. Then there's the constant parade of people bringing food and flowers. Some of these people are obviously family, but I saw people I haven't seen in 15 years and couldn't, in fact, even remember who they were exactly. It's just another bizarre observation that it seems when you die, you become instantly more popular (even with family members) than you ever were when you were alive. Obviously, all these rituals are designed to comfort the living since the dead is dead. I, however, feel that only close family and friends should be in the inner sanctum. It was disconcerting to me to see the house so full of people that my mother didn't even know, even though part of me knew that these people were there only to comfort my grandparents. Maybe it's just me, but I would have felt more comfortable with people who were close to my mother and never mind the ones who were virtually strangers to her. I'm weird that way. The bottom line is this: Never take for granted at any time how much time you have left. Make friends and love your family because tomorrow it could be all over. Maybe that way, there won't be any strangers hanging around after you pass and that can only be a good thing. The grief has been overwhelming, but I know she's better off where she is and not suffering so I feel it's easier to bear. If she'd been perfectly fine and then just dead all of a sudden, I don't know if I could've taken that. She didn't make Thanksgiving or Christmas, but she's still here in our hearts and I believe she's watching over us so I am not as sad as everyone thinks I should be. She is whole, beautiful, pain-free and with Jesus and even though I wasn't ready to lose her, I am thankful for those things.  |
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