this morning i supported my friend as she laid her grandpa to rest. this evening i will support other friends as they have just welcomed their second child into the world today. just in a few hours span, two lives celebrated in completely different ways. just like nico arriving shortly after ali leaving, what a reminder it is to me that life has to and will go on.
as i sat in the back of the chapel today and listened to all the wonderful words shared about sarah’s grandpa, i was moved to tears. i should apologize to sarah and her family because it’s a bit unfair of me to say this and i’m kind of ashamed to admit it, but i couldn’t direct my sympathy to her family. i wanted to, but it was so hard to focus on them when i’m still in so much pain. so selfish, and i hate it. all i could think about was mine and my family’s torment as we mourned together, not long ago. i sat there staring down the long aisle towards his open casket. just like with ali, i positioned someone’s head just in front of his so i didn’t have to see his face. it was literally impossible for me to be present in the moment, for i couldn’t stop seeing ali lay there. so still. so lifeless. before i knew it the intense pressure and burn started behind my eyes, and suddenly i couldn’t see through the tears. i was right back where i never ever wanted to be…ali’s funeral. they spoke about his inspiring life, the joy he brought to every family member and the legacy he leaves behind. it all sounded so familiar. i hurt with them as they now feel the pain i feel every day. his wife, kids and grandkids are now entering the cruel stages of grief that sadly will never end.
there were points in the service i could hardly catch my breath. i was so thankful to have had nico there to bounce around in the back of the chapel, pleading with him to keep quiet so no one would look back to see my ugly cry. i wondered if i will ever be able to attend a funeral and focus my attention on that person, not ali. i wondered if i’ll ever be able to see an open casket and not see my sister. i questioned why the hell people even have open caskets in the first place. wasn’t it enough for us to see her that night, much less days later hardly looking like herself? i understand people do it for those who weren’t there to have closure. i get that. but i really don’t understand why we want to leave ourselves with that image of them laying there so rigid. it’s now stuck in my mind, and i see that before i can picture them alive and healthy. when i die, unless you can make me have a really surprised face (a little comic relief to those stepping up to see me), don’t open my casket. k? i don’t want my family, kids especially, to remember that image of me, cause it hurts.
as everyone said their peace by his side, all that was left was his immediate family. i closed my eyes to stop the tears and there i was, back in purcell marians chapel. it was just my parents, britt and our spouses saying goodbye to her face one last time. and just like today, we stood there with wounded hearts as we watched their spouse trembling above them. something that sooner or later each of us will play one role or the other. and at that moment, somewhere else in this world, a new life will be born. and the circle of life goes on…
Oh mel…I am so sorry 🙁 the 1st funeral after my dad passed was pretty horrible. It was for a friends grandmother. I felt sorry for them BC I knew what they were going through…but I felt worse for me…that I had to relive that hell. The 2nd funeral was Ali’s….which obviously was not any easier, for many reasons. Mia being born was obviously a highlight in my life last year…but it doesn’t bring them back & it doesn’t make it easier. However,I promise…at some point, you will be able to talk about her or think about her & smile. Somedays I can think about my dad & laugh at his crazy ways….somedays, like today, the pain is so fresh all over again. Either way, know we are always here for you guys. Love ya.
Again you write and are wonderfully able to write the emotions of so many. (think of the poor souls that have no outlet like your writing)
I don’t think your grief goes away but somewhere down this long journey your grief will change….still hurts and stings then aches and is a little less “in your face”~”scarlet letter” type of pain. You’ll be surprised by the things you can’t get through and similarly surprised by the things you can…and even then it is sometimes just barely….BUT you do get through it. Like today going full circle.
And all those beautiful beginnings you photograph~ I bet Ali kisses them on the forehead and tells them to “smile… That’s my sis down there”
Hopefully she is running a baby boot camp so our world will be a better place:)
You WILL muddle through as best you can because you are Ali’s sister…..Because you are Mel…And although you knew it was cool to be her sis….NOW we all know!
I’m grateful to share at least one thing in common with Ali and that’s you Mel!
You and your family will have Ali by your side always and forever.
Xxoo my sweet friend Mel!
Love hearing your honest words and your journey through this grief. I think you were brave to even go to a funeral to begin with and I wouldn’t feel bad about how it affected you. It is only natural and you obviously couldn’t help it. Speaking of being brave…I have been so amazed at how you and the rest of your family have been so strong to just keep on going and living life each day just like Ali would have wanted. It would have been so easy to fall into a deep depression and never leave your homes…but you all have chosen life no matter how hard it hurts and I think that speaks volumes about your characters. Love you!
Melanie –
I have to admit I am stalking your blogs! Ever since I was introduced to them thru my friends via good old Facebook I check them once a day (ok…maybe more). I love your raw honesty and then in the next sentence your sense of humor. I could go on and on about my personal experiences, but that would take forever! I sent you a message right after you had Nico about my love of Dr. B, natural birth, etc., You may not remember, but I have had to deal with the death of my Mom and my son. So I greatly appreciate your honesty about death and the grieving process and can relate in so many ways. Just wanted to say thank you or continuing to share your grief. And yes…..going to a funeral from now on will take on a while new meaning. The pain and selfishness will lessen, but I think it will always be there. And I bet you’re not the only one in that church who was feeling the same way about someone.
Well written. I am so sorry for your loss. I saw the article on the front page of the Cincinnati Enquirer and recognized her picture right away. I’ve been following your blog ever since. I was with Ali in South Africa in the summer of 2007. As part of the group of teachers, we often went in to see how the library was progressing. I have pictures of Ali working in there and reading to our group. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
praying for you and your family to heal. Godspeed to all!