James and Mom
5 months ago today mom left us. She didn't want us to mourn but celebrate her life. One of my favorite things about mom was that she loved to sing and dance around the house. Abba was a big favorite and the song Mamma Mia is forever etched into my brain. Later on it was the soundtrack to Grease. Then there was Sentimental Journey. I don't remember who sang it - Frank Sinatra or Doris Day or Ella Fitzgerald. But mom used to always sing it a little off key which is how we all learned to sing it as well. I think she did it to make us laugh when we were just a touch too cranky or whiny.
And she never swore. The only way you knew she was mad was 'The Look' or the slam of one of the kitchen cabinet doors. I found out later it actually felt good to slam a cabinet door, vent a little frustration. Just make sure it isn't the door to the china. *grin* Mom was always a very upbeat, very positive lady and she taught us love is unconditional. She was there no matter what and she still is and will always be in our hearts.
Friday we had her memorial at their old church, St. Joseph's, in Clarksburg and it was beautiful. Father Dan made the mass personal and casual and a wonderful celebration of mom's life which is what she would have wanted. We had one hitch at the national cemetery when discovered we didn't have a special California permit, which no one had told us about. However, the folks there pulled out all the stops and things turned out for the better. Instead of going to one of the committal shelters for the ceremony, we got to go directly to the columbarium. Dad placed mom's urn in their niche which made him happy. I was happy because it was the section in front of the lake with the beautiful fountain. When James and I had previously gone to check out the cemetery, we drove around and stopped at the section in front of the lake. "This is the spot" I said and guess I must have sent up a quiet prayer because that's where she ended up.
Afterwards we gathered at my niece's house and celebrated with our family and friends. Mom is in her new home and I imagine her up in heaven, happily playing bridge with my mother in law and exchanging stories about all their children.
In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing. ~Robert Ingersoll