Mary Mom's Funeral and The Things I Learned Through This

From the bottom of my heart, I would like to thank everyone for their thoughts, and prayers this weekend, as we laid my Mary Mom to rest.  There was a Memorial Service Sunday, followed by a reception at my ex-husband's house, and the burial was yesterday morning.

I don't shy away from proclaiming the many wrongs of divorce, although I myself have gone through one.  I believe that marriage is to be a forever commitment, and when the going gets tough, the wise couple becomes stronger.  But, there are times when infidelity, or abuse get mixed in, and when you're raising children in this environment, I believe you have an obligation to remove them from the situation.  Rather than wondering whether staying in was what I should have done, I wonder in quiet moments whether getting married to him in the first place was what I should have done.

I hate to admit that that is where I go in my thoughts sometimes, but it really is the honest truth.  I haven't been able to simply shake off the bad decisions of the past, and run forward in my present, and onward toward my future.  I've had bad memories and regret tangled about my feet, and although I have been aware of it and can at times shake them loose, I still catch myself all tangled up again.

Until this weekend.  And I still don't have it all figured out yet what happened.

On Sunday morning, the day of the Memorial Service, I had no small amount of anxiety.  I was snappy, and impatient, and on the verge of nervous tears, rather than mournful tears.  I couldn't put my finger on exactly what it was that had me so reactive.  Then it hit me.

The guilt over leaving Mary when I divorced her son was tremendous.  And hearing stories about his impatience with her, as well as what I witnessed myself, made me sick to my core.  I am a bleeding codependent.  Not being there to ease the suffering of someone dear makes me feel like I'm causing it.  Such is the mindset of a codependent.  It's disgustingly egocentric.  Like the world is so centered around me, that I am causing her more pain than the cancer itself.  But, even though I can see my response as clearly unhealthy, I really felt a huge weight of guilt for not being there with her day in, and day out, as I would have been had I not gotten a divorce.

So with that guilt weighing me down, I started becoming paranoid.  Starting fearing that others in the family would be as disappointed in me, as I was.  That they would see the way Mary was being treated, and they would be mad at me for not being there for her.  Such is the mind of an egocentric codependent.  We know no bounds.  I make it all about me.

So I'm a guilt-ridden, egocentric, paranoid, fearful, codependent.  Maybe this is what is tangled about my feet, rather than the bad memories and regret.

We first went to the house with my ex-husband and the kids.  Mary's sister and brother-in-law were there.  I love them so much.  Tears formed and willed to spill out.  Mary's death was a tremendous loss to them both.  I felt their pain for them.

Hugo, Danielle, and I arrived at the mortuary early.  The kids went with their dad.  A very deliberate and important act.  He needed them.

I was so happy that Hugo and Danielle took their day off from work/school to be there.  They both loved Mary, and having them there was a balm to my soul.

One of the first cars to unload was one carrying my own parents, my two sisters, and my little nephew.  What a sight they were.  What a powerful presence they were to the depths of my spirit.  Their presence, along with Hugo and Danielle, gave me the strength I needed to face relatives of Mary and my ex-husband who might or might not receive me well.  And I knew that their physical bodies were nothing in comparison to the strength they gave me simply by doing what they had been doing...they had been praying.  I felt it.  I felt yours, too.

Family started arriving.  With each car unloading, I wondered what the vibe would be.  Will they be uncomfortable with me being there?  Even though my ex-husband and I are very amicable, and he and Hugo get along great, and even though we can do school functions and parties together, there are many who aren't used to divorced couples getting along.  They're used to tension, if the divorced people are in the same room.  Not the case with us.  But, they don't know that, and they feel instantly torn.  Another ugly downside of divorce.

But, one by one, each group received Hugo, Danielle, and me, and each group received us well.  This is, after all, the people cut from the same cloth as my Mary Mom.

One of Mary's cousins approached me after the service, and he asked how I had been doing.  So I gave the obligatory fine and doing well, but then he asked me again.  More deliberately.  He was going straight to the point.  How have I been doing since the divorce.  What has come of it all?  How is my life?  So, I answered him.  I told him how bad it had been (sans ugly details).  I told him how hard it has been on the kids (again, in general--no details needed).  And I told him how well we are now.  That I'm remarried to a man who is able to father the children in ways their natural dad can't.  And that their natural dad knows this, and is amazingly OK with it, happy that there is someone in this house working alongside me for the greater good.  I told him that I am writing, and working in the lives of other families who are suffering in crisis, similar to what we went through.  That it is my life ambition to help them.  To lead them out.  To offer them hope of a brighter future.

I could see amazement and joy in his eyes.  He proceeded to share with me something he uses as he himself works with families in crisis (crazy, huh?).  He calls it the Four S's:

SURVIVAL.  This is the point at which you simply try and stay above water, and come out breathing.
STABILITY.  This would be where you aren't treading anymore.  Maybe you've come to dry land.
SUCCESS.     This is where you are see the light at the end of the tunnel, and you live in it.  Finally.
SIGNIFICANCE.  This is where you take what you have learned, and you make a difference in the lives of others.

It was inspiring.  I wrote it down, wanting to share it with you.

Mary was buried yesterday morning in a small town down by the Salton Sea.  It was a 3 hour drive, and the service was at 9am.  We had to leave crazy-early.  But we got to see a breath-taking sunrise.

She was buried near her mother and father, in a small cemetery.  It was already getting hot, which was why the service was scheduled for so early in the day.  This part of extreme Southern California knows two seasons.  Hot, and not quite as hot as before, but still hot.  Afterward, we all met for an early lunch at a local restaurant.  It seemed like lunch time, since we had gotten up so early.  It was only 10:00am.

The reception on Sunday after the Memorial Service, as well as lunch after the graveside service, provided many opportunities for catching up with out-of-state family.  It was beautiful to spend time with my nieces.  One of which deliberately called me Aunt Kristi, just like she always has.  But the highlight was being able to be with my ex-husband's sister and her husband.  They aren't my ex-in-laws.  They are my forever-sister-and-brother.  My love for them is unfazed by divorce.

So, what was it that changed in me this weekend?  I still don't know.  Just that a weight has been lifted.  I feel lighter.  More free.  Closure?  Maybe.  Or was it that I faced some of my guilt, paranoia, and fear, and I found them to be not quite as fire-breathing as I thought before?  Maybe that the very things I've been keeping tangled about my feet aren't as hard to free myself from as I thought?  I don't know.  But I think it could be all of those things.  My feet just seem more free.

I'll need more time to process it, probably.  Or, maybe I won't need to.  Maybe I'll just run.