Posted in Death, Life, Mom

Our last walk together

Last Friday was Moms funeral and it was time for her to be laid to rest. Nearly three weeks had passed since she feel asleep for the last time and many of us were looking for some sort of closure, for a new way to emerge so we could go on. For myself, I don’t think I have found that path just yet. There are daily reminders here in the house and things that need to be taken care off.

Mom was with us the entire time during the service and she even brought a smile to my face at the end of the service, especially on this difficult day. Upon entering the church, Mom’s picture from her 80th birthday was displayed next to her urn, surrounded by a reef of flowers. Below were additional flowers from myself, her sister, and her four children, my cousins.

I woke in the morning and felt strangely calm. There was a peace, a stillness within me that felt almost strange. At some point I thought I was numb to the pain and perhaps my soul was protecting my physical body. Whatever it was, it was nothing like I had expected that the day might be like. I had feared the nosy gazes of onlookers that I remembered from my childhood during Dads funeral. Days before, I even had a bad dream that I had fallen carrying Mom’s urn, dropping and shattering it. All of these and more worries were gone, disappeared the day of Mom’s funeral, October the 18th.

Rain had been in the forecast off and on for the day, and the final word was that rain might fall in the hours after everything was over with. I think Mom had other plans as it came to that. The service was beautiful, a celebration of life for a woman who hadn’t always had the easiest of life. A life that was filled with tough years, a non existing childhood, a war, the loss of a soulmate, and pains many should not experience at such a young age. She was a strong, tough women, a fighter until the end, until hope disappeared and her quality of life was clouded and gray.

The inside church service concluded with a song from Westlife “I’ll see you again” that I had picked for Mom. After that it was my turn to carry Moms urn to the graveside. It was the hardest part of the service and I hugged and held her so tight. I was glad to walk ahead of everyone, for nobody to see my face and the pain that must have been all over it. It was difficult to set her down, to let go of the urn and to step away from it. It felt so final…so very final.

As soon as we arrived at the grave, ominous looking clouds started to form, swirling around overhead. I knew Mom was here and I loved that she made her presence known. At least to me and I’m not sure if anyone else had the same feeling. The winds picked up and the big tree at the end of the cemetery, next to the cross started to sway back and forth. There was rustle in the air as fall leaves were dancing through the sky. It was beautiful. Next the thunder was rolling, just as I thought it couldn’t get more beautiful. Such a sad occasion and yet I stood with my face up towards the heavens, smiling up at Mom, thinking it was beautiful. It was really quite strange, and all I can say is that I felt as if she was comforting me in these difficult moments, putting on this amazing nature spectacle she knew I could appreciate and recognize her being here. Now the lightning accommodated the thunder, the dark clouds swirling, and the leaves rustling in the wind. This went on for the remainder of the service.

After singing our last song, I stepped forward to the grave to say my goodbyes, to drop dirt on top of the urn that was already lowered, and to leave my flower bouquet with Mom. One after another from the family paid their last respects and stopped in front of me to shake my hand, say their condolences and wishes for me, or to give me a giant hug. Some of us had not seen each other in over thirty some years, but none of that mattered in that moment, that moment when we were reunited and shared this grief together. The heartfelt emotions touched my heart and one of my cousins hugged me so hard it initially took my breath away. It said everything, without words and it will forever stand out in my mind. Another hug came from another family member I had somehow angered unintentionally a few years back. We never quite reconciled, although I had tried, but here and now, none of it mattered and we were family once again. I was very thankful, grateful and moved. Lastly came a worker from the nursing home to lay down a flower arrangement and last greeting for Mom. I thought it was a nice touch and very thoughtful. That was until that very worker (which Mom never cared for her bossy ways) came up to me to say her condolences and hand me an outstanding bill that had arrived for Mom. Ha…really. It was the only thing I found rather tasteless and without any tact. That stamp to mail that bill must have been too much of an inconvenience, but oh well. It is what it is and I’m ok with it. Of course I have my own feelings about it, but this is so ridiculous, it doesn’t even deserve my energy, plus Mom took care of it anyways. Just wait until I tell you how. So priceless, so typical Mom.

Like I said she was the last one at the grave. After she handed me the bill, people we’re leaving. I had planned to stay behind for a bit longer. I looked at the skies and all the weather was still in motion. Straight ahead I could see the rain falling over the town Mom had spent her last year of life. It was moving rapidly towards me and would reach me in no time. Maybe it was time to leave as I started to feel big drops starting to fall. I made it to safety completely dry, but many did not. Within two minutes of completing Moms service and being handed the bill, it was as if the floodgates had opened without any warning. No, slower, light sprinkles, nothing, just Mom sending a message for the person that had given her so much grief at the nursing home. It was as she had the last laugh and I can hear her say something like “Don’t you dare worry about a measly bill of 7.50 euros on my funeral. What’s the matter with you.”

You are right and well done Mom 😉 I love you and miss you so much. ❤️

Author:

Who am I, and why I write. I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I am the one, holding on to the silver lining when the skies are gray. I’m a believer that nothing is coincidence, but that everything has purpose. I’ve made my mistakes, don’t we all, but I see them as growing pains and they are a part of who I am today. I have lost myself in order to find myself, and I still do from time to time, but in a good way. I’m a big child who laughs until my belly hurts when life wants to be serious. Career wise: I’ve been there, done that, and I took “The jump” off the hamster wheel in an effort to change my future. I didn’t land all that soft, but I can say that I’m still proud to have found the courage to do it. Coming full circle, I had it all, and yet I was lonely and had nothing. Today I choose to be a collector of moments and I chase memories, instead of the material stuff. Less is more, and the motto is quality over quantity. You’d be amazed at how freeing it can be. I see myself as a free spirit that believes in an unconventional lifestyle. Somehow I go against the grain most of the times, not to rebel, but because it feels right to stay true to my unique and authentic self. It takes courage, and you often stand alone, but if you dare, you soon realize that it is the only way if you don’t want to lose who you are. Just like most, my past wasn’t easy and I come from a life that didn’t always give me the opportunity to be heard. Few related and even fewer cared to take the time. But that’s the past and it’s history, the future hasn’t happened and the “NOW” is truly all we ever have. In the end we all have a story to tell, and we all seek to be understood. We all yearn to be heard and accepted and still life is hard and our path is full of stumbling blocks. If we can see the lessons in adversity we may realize that the toughest moments are often our greatest teachers. There is a reason for the saying that the stars can’t shine without darkness, and it might be darkness that will show you the light.
It took a series of (un)fortunate events, to learn to glow through the pain, to learn how to dance in the rain. I believe in Magic and wonder, and the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. As an empath this old soul often feels a little too much, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Today, I am here to tell my story because I believe that it can help others. It is my hope to bring inspiration and strengths to you, while showing you that it can be done. I know you are out there, and I know you are suffering in silence. I am here to tell you that you are not alone, and your voice is being heard loud and clear. Hang on and be strong, transformation is yours. 
In light and love....Rhapsody Bohème 💙🦋

27 thoughts on “Our last walk together

      1. Thank you so much. I don’t have constant WiFi here in Moms house and it’s a challenge. I have to upload and do everything once I’m at my family, but I do appreciate the gesture and thank you with all my heart. It means so much Jay. Hugs

        Liked by 1 person

  1. I CAN’T BELIEVE someone would hand out a care bill at a funeral!

    But you sound like you stayed very present and open to your Mum’s spirit through it all, so well done ❤ I truly hope you both find more peace now, as you move on along the journey x

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yeah me neither. Still kind of unreal but I’m moving kn from it and there is no sense in being upset. It is what it is. Just tactless.
      I think Moms doing with the weather, the clouds, the wind, the thunder and the lightning is what helped me stay present and distract me from the pain. I knew it was her and that she was here with us and that was enough at that moment.
      Xoxo

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Your little bear gave me tears Rhapsody, I could feel everything in that one image. It is very sad but beautiful in its expression.
    And your mom was letting you know with the storm that she is still very much around Rhapsody. That love never goes, you are always joined even among the change.
    It was a big day, just like your courage ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That kneeling bear spoke to me as well and I found it a few years ago. It has touched my heart ever since and it’s expression and posture says a thousand words. Only an empath and a healer such as yourself could pick up on the deeper meaning of it. I knew you would see it immediately ❤️

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Once again, Rhapsody, thank you for sharing your path, your experiences, where you have found consolation, your clarity in seeking and finding meaning and using that meaning to light your way forward. Lessons for me and all of us.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Steve. Your words as always have such profound meaning for me and you know it is for those very reasons as to why I share this journey. May it continue to help others and shine a light.
      Bless you my dear friend. I promise to catch up and visit your blog soon. It’s so hard with the limited WiFi and having content loaded. Big hug.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh it was as Mom opened the floodgates and let the rain pour down two minutes after I was handed the bill. It was almost like “don’t you dare hand out a bill during my funeral” haha. That’s what I meant with her taking care of it. She had the last laugh.

      Like

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