What should have been a 4 hour plus drive to SF was 3.5 hours, including slowing down for an accident along the way, and I nervously went into the office ahead of my appointment just to make sure I was on the list. Not only was I on the list but they let me in early. I couldn't believe how smoothly everything went and after going back in the afternoon, I emerged with an American passport in my hands. I have to say, the passport office staff were lovely and there were no issues at all, which was a huge relief.
Ned and I flew to England where a friend picked us up from the airport and drove us to my parents house. Except it is just my dad's house now and it makes me so sad to say that, because everything in the house, from the ornaments to the decor, were chosen by my mom. Pictures of my mom were scattered around the house, one with Ned when he was only 7 weeks old, and it just made me sad. Made me sad to think that I would never see her again, that she would never see her grandchildren again, and that she wouldn't drive me crazy again. Because she did drive me crazy, believe me! But it is so weird, when they die you only remember the really good stuff, and it makes you miss them even more.
The funeral was at the same church where we had Ned christened on Christmas Day, and although we didn't realize it at the time, my sister picked
out the exact same outfit that she wore that day for her to be dressed in for her funeral. It was only a week later when we looked at the photographs that we both realized. It was the same vicar too which was really nice. There is a lot of tradition in England with funerals and we left the house in a car that followed the hearse and all of the neighbors came out and bowed their heads as we passed by. Before we got to the end of the street, the funeral director got out and with his top hat under his arm, he walked in front of the hearse as they walk the dead out from their street.
We arrived at the church a little early and watched as more than 20 people went in. Little did we know that were going to be another 200 or so already inside. The church was full - my mom would have been so happy! The vicar led us into the church with the coffin and the music that blasted from the sound system was a favorite of my moms - Mahalia Jackson's I'm on my Way! I walked down the church aisle holding on to my dad's arm - I hadn't done this in 17 years when he gave me away at my first wedding in the very same church. It was such a surreal feeling. The coffin was so tiny, too tiny for a woman with such an enormous presence.
The service was beautiful and there were many things that made us cry and some anecdotes from the vicar that made us laugh. I cried the hardest when they played Mahalia Jackson singing the Lord's Prayer.
My faith in God and the life we go to after this one gave me so much comfort, because I know mom believed and I know that she is on her new journey now. I know that she isn't suffering and she doesn't feel any pain or loss. But I do. I am suffering and I feel a pain that I never knew existed and a loss that is unbearable. As my sister put it, she was such a force of nature that you half expected a black hole to open up where she once stood!
I know that with time it will become easier, everyone says that and I really hope it is true. But for now I am really sad and all I do is read and re-read the letter that she mailed to me on the very day that she went to hospital, and I wonder if part of her knew because she never usually wrote like this:
Just a little note to say I'm sending my love to you both. I wish I could wrap my arms around you every day, for real, not just in my head, but I know your lives are settled in America.......
By the time you get this I might be out of hospital so hopefully it won't be long before I talk to you. Till then my darlings be good, be well and be happy.
Lots of love, Mom
Nancy
