One year ago we were leaving the funeral home, post wake for our Mali, to prepare for her funeral Mass the next day. I don’t remember that
Before the wake started I remember my sisters getting the funeral home ready for the wake. My children setting up photographs and a dvd. My work family blowing up balloons to release during her wake service. So many balloons. Hundreds.
I remember saying the Rosary led by Fr. Morgan. I remember the hundreds of peoples faces who came to her wake and hugging a lot of them. I remember Mali’s violin professor Stacey Sip and Lana playing violin and piano together but I don’t know what song it was. I remember Stacey weeping as she slid her bow across her violin.
I don’t remember how all these memories are tied together. They were like flashes scattered in my brain
If Joe hadn’t taken pictures of the Funeral Mass I wouldn’t remember as much as I did of it. Ave Maria was being sung from the choir perch by a single voice. The homily given was so profound by Fr. Morgan I thought my heart would burst. The weeping of her class from O’Gorman HS on the Blessed Mother’s side of the Cathedral broke my already broken heart
I remember the casket to my left where my daughter lay and thinking how badly I wanted to crawl in there with her.
One year later the fog still settles in but I can breathe.
There are so many people who have walked into my life who have lost their children too. They have guided my path when the path was not obvious. My friends who carried me when I couldn’t walk.
Are things better now? No is the only answer I have. I am trying to learn how to live without her and I hate every minute of it. I detest it. I want to wash it away like dirt from my hands.
God has plans for each of us. Learning to suffer with grace and not be bitter is a hard lesson and I have not passed that class yet. I have no idea what his plan is for me
I miss you Ducky. I don’t think the part of me that died with you is coming back. That’s fine with me as long as we’re together.
Remembering Mali 