Posts Tagged With: business of death

another member joins the adult orphan club

Posted on September 5, 2022 by robynbird

The last couple of weeks have been chaos for our family.
Husband N’s mother died unexpectedly two weeks ago Saturday.
My daughter, her husband, and their daughter were heartbroken.
YBW and I were heartbroken.
I can’t tell you how precious a woman she was or how much she will be missed.
Husband N lost his dad in the mid aughts so he’s recently joined the terrible club of adult orphans.

He’s and only child with an enormous extended family.
Fortunately, the majority of this extended family was able to help and support him as he figured out what he needed to do.
He came to YBW and me for emotional support and guidance.
He and Thing 1 came to YBW and me for practical support and childcare.

My hear hurts for my son in law who lost his own momma. For my daughter who lost a truly wonderful mother in law. For Baby K who lost her Nana.

I could not have asked for a better (other) grandmother with whom to share my granddaughter. Nana was as kind and loving a woman as you’d ever want to meet. She had a childlike sense of joy and saw the good in everyone. She was always eager to share time, stories, photos, and love between herself, Baby K, and me. She never behaved as though she felt a way about Baby K spending more time with us. Even when we were all together and Baby K would sort of default to me and I would encourage her to ask or show or tell or whatever Nana, she never had her feelings hurt.
She was simply joyful to be all together.

I’m grateful my daughter had a mother in law who loved her so completely, who became another momma to her. I’m grateful Baby K had a Nana who loved her so completely. Who was eager and willing to share the grandmother spotlight with such an open heart.

I hope I can provide that same sort of love for Husband N. I’ll never be his Momma, but I can be another momma for him. One that loves him so completely he feels comforted in his loss.

Y’all, my family is hurting.
But we’re figuring it out together.
We have memories and share stories.
We have laughter and tears.
Mostly we have love.

I’d be so grateful if you’d be willing to hold my daughter’s family in your hearts as they find their way grieving, handling the business of death, and adapting to this new way of being.

Categories: death, loss | Tags: all the feels, business of death, death, family, grateful, gratitude, grief, grieving, healing, hope, hopeful, loss, love, peace, support, supportive family | 2 Comments

our revels now are ended

Posted on May 3, 2018 by robynbird

My precious husband has joined me in the least cool club on the planet.
The Orphan Club.
We are adult children with no living parents.
Please send him healing love.

YBW’s darling mother died quietly in her sleep Wednesday afternoon. She was 87 and lived a life full of love and joy. In her last few years, she suffered with CHF (congestive heart failure) and her health declined rapidly in the last six weeks.

Today we went about dealing with the business of death. YBW, his brother and his wife, and I met with the funeral director and cemetery personnel. I used my mad organizational and list making skills to plan and coordinate. It’s my way of being helpful.

Tomorrow is YBW’s birthday.
We’re keeping our plans for dinner with friends in the evening, and celebrating with his boys Saturday afternoon. He deserves to be celebrated in the midst of our grief.

He is brave and strong, even though he doesn’t feel like he is. I watch him. I see what he experiences written on his face, in his body language. He is exhausted. He is anxious. But he is grounded in the love of friends and family. And he is grounded by me.

Our family is feeling quiet in our grief, but the love coming at us is truly overwhelming in the most beautiful way.

I am reminded of Prospero’s words in The Tempest:

You do look, my son, in a moved sort,
As if you were dismayed. Be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
Yes, indeed.

Categories: love | Tags: adult orphans, business of death, death, family, friendship, grief, love, memorial service, memories, orphan, Prospero, the Tempest, William Shakespeare, YBW | 2 Comments

this sucks

Posted on May 9, 2014 by robynbird

This has quite possibly been the longest week of my life, and I am absolutely exhausted.

The business of death is peculiar. I did all that business this week and now I’m in a holding pattern. They haven’t been able to cremate the body because the PCP hasn’t signed the death certificate. We can’t have the memorial service until May 24 because the church is booked both this weekend and next. Hurry up and wait…me no likey.

Thing 2 was supposed to arrive yesterday afternoon but was violently ill in the car on the way to the train station yesterday morning. (Is it wrong I got a bit of sick pleasure she barfed in her dad’s car?) Her dad and I are meeting at the half way point on Sunday. At least she and I will be together on a crazy road trip for mother’s day and she’ll be here for my birthday the next day. She and Girlie Thing and Sundance and I are going to get pedicures and out to lunch on my birthday, I’m very happy about that.

Sundance and I ate lunch at the delicious Greek place yesterday instead of going together to the train station to get Thing 2. When she left me at home, I thanked her for babysitting me. I feel like she and YBW have been babysitting me quite a bit.

YBW has been so patient with me and so kind and loving, he went with me to sign the autopsy and cremation papers Monday, he chose not to see Daddie’s body, that was something I did all by myself.
We went to get things we needed from the safety deposit box at the bank and then to my dad’s house to try and find his wallet. I packed up perishable foodstuff and YBW said: It feels like we’re stealing.
I said: It all belongs to me now so we’re not stealing, but it sucks.

I’ve said that so much this past week. It sucks. Those words cannot begin to convey the meaning of the way I feel, but they’re the words that seem most appropriate.

There are moments I feel numb and moments I feel sad and moments I feel almost normal. Today is a numb and sad all mixed together kind of day.

Normal will come back to roost. In the meantime it really just sucks.