** Trigger Warning - MeMe Content, Death, Funerals **
Hello friends! It's been a long time since my last update. A really long() time. 38620800 seconds or so, in fact!
When Jordan died 14 years ago I had to do the "lean on me / hold everyone else up" thing. After the funeral, and when most everyone else had gone, I sat beside his grave and cried a big ugly, deep cry. It was cathartic, and very needed.
When Mom went through her cancer scare 10 years ago, again I held everyone else up. But possibly due to her amazing recovery, I never reached that meltdown point. Oh it hurt. A LOT. But I guess still having her meant the deep sorrow wasn't there or wasn't coming.
Fast-forward to Meme. On 8/31/14 she passed. We had just seen her two days before. Since she had been in the hospital since May for end-stage CHF, her passing wasn't going to be a surprise. And because she stuck it out for more than 3 months, we all got time to come to terms with it. Still, rushing to the hospital after getting "the call" stank. Ape was beside herself and I was setting land speed records trying to drive 20 miles in as little time as possible.
We were too late, and after the usual "we did all we could" rundown from the medics, we saw her. I'll detail more of that experience in the other post. The point for this post is that it hurt. A LOT. Seeing Ape keening hurt. Seeing BIL and the nephews crying hurt. Seeing *my* mom cry hurt. *I* hurt.
Holding Ape through the nights after was one of the hardest things I did. It felt like I couldn't hold any more pain.
The night before the funeral, we had the "thing we can't call a viewing cos Meme hated that term." She looked so...good. Lots of people showed up despite the awful rain and we did what one does - shared happy memories of the past. Towards the end, Younger had had enough and broke down. I wasn't expecting that, but to his credit, the realization this was the last time he'd see his grandmother undid him.
We made it to the funeral. It was a very beautiful service! Father Jose gave a very passionate sermon (?) and we hoped everything was as Meme'd have wanted it. At one point, all four boys broke down, and later BIL went around the church to have a good cry. Ape said one of the hardest parts about the day was seeing her boys cry.
At the cemetery, there was more beauty and peace, and several of us spoke aloud. Of course there were more tears. Finally, Meme was laid to rest, and we left, headed to Ape's school which was hosting the "remembrance reception."
In the days after Meme's passing, Ape put together a long slideshow of family pictures and set it to some of Meme's favorite songs. This was what we watched at the school, while eating a buffet lunch. As with the church service and cemetery, everyone was so kind and caring. It felt nice to remember her some more in a less-than-funereal setting.
Later that night, Ape broke down again and I held her for a long time while she cried, grieving the loss of her mom and champion and friend and shopping buddy and...
Here's where I was going with this whole post. Of all the tears shed in the week or so surrounding this time, less than a handful were mine. I expect some people saw me holding Ape or the kids or SIL or whatever and thought, "Aerin's so strong" or "Aerin's a rock" or something similar.
I never wanted to be a rock, and as I said in a job-loss post, I stand because I must, not because I have strength. I am *angry* that I have yet to have my cleansing cry, and the more time that passes the less likely I think it'll be.
Part of what bothers me, aside from feeling like I have both pain inside and emptiness, is that I'm tired of the assertion that crying and emotionality is a gendered thing. Can we as a society get past this? It shouldn't be remarkable that any of the boys cried when Meme passed. And *they* shouldn't feel like they have to resist the urge to let the pain rush out.
This is what I mean by strength is weakness. People shouldn't feel compelled to bottle stuff like this inside. Whether my belief in the Well of Sorrows is real or fiction, holding this much inside is just not fun. If the people I care about are holding onto even a tiny fraction of what I feel I have inside me, I hope they know I'll hold them while they cry.
And maybe I'll finally shed my pain too.
