Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone…
- Maggie
- Mar 26, 2023
- 4 min read
My Mom passed away on February 24, 2023 (my wife’s 58th birthday). We knew she was getting close. My sister had called me a few days earlier and said it might be time. I started to rearrange my flights so I could get there in time to say goodbye. For whatever reason, I missed my flight and Mom passed while I was stuck in the Salt Lake City airport. It was absolutely miserable. I felt completely gutted. How could I have been sitting at the gate and missed my flight?!
Grief is that way. In my experience your ability to think and to make sense of what is going on around you is completely diminished. My Mom was surrounded by loving family. It was a beautiful scene based on how it was described to me. I arrived at my sister’s house about 4 hours after Mom passed. Her body remained until I had an opportunity to say goodbye. I walked into a house full of people. What a strange and incredibly spiritual scene. It warms my heart to be from a family, a tribe, that celebrates life and death in the way that we do. It is the Irish way.
As I was beating myself up for not making it ‘home’ prior to Mom’s passing, Little Lori and I determined that I was detained so Mom could have her Irish wake. 😊 That makes me happy. If anyone deserved a big Irish send off, it was my Mom. Her Irish roots ran deep. I get it. Of all of the things I feel connected about in our family it is the way that we were raised and the beliefs held. Of course, some of those ways are very outdated and we are working through those.
While staying at my Mom’s home a few days following her passing, I was slowing organizing things. My sisters are tasked with going through Mom’s home and finding a place for all the various treasures that she had and collected. I did my best to help their process. Among the things that I took home with me were recordings my Uncle Joe had done with my maternal Grandmother, Florence Harrington (Flo Flo) and my Mom’s Aunt Ceil Harrington. We are so blessed to have their stories and memories recorded. Recently I have listened to the cassette tapes and transcribed them.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think about my Mom. Many times it is intentional where I reflect on her life and the relationship that we shared. Other times it just comes up out of nowhere. A thought or impression will come to me, and I want to share it with her. In those moments it hurts so bad I wonder if I’m going to make it through. Yet, I know I will because I survived the same when Dad passed. My only relief comes when I think that they are reunited. They deeply loved one another. I’ve always known that but can see that so clearly now. They really did do their best.
My siblings and I did our best to honor our Mom in the way she would have wanted, and, in the way she deserved. She was fascinated with death, funerals, obituaries… all of it. Her uncle had a mortuary, so she knew the industry and viewed it as a business. The next generation is now running the business. We met with our second cousins to pick out a coffin and to design a brochure, among other things. Each of us looked at the others for guidance on Mom’s wishes. Thankfully we were led by the moment and all kept Mom first and foremost in all decisions. A few days later we had a meeting with the church where we had to plan Mom’s service. Once again we looked to one another and then opened ourselves up to the process. It is amazing how much better you get to know your siblings when your parents have passed. We connected as equal adults with our various perspectives. In those moments I felt deep love and respect, for each other and for the process. We all related to Mom differently. Seeing it come together was marvelous. As I reflect on that week between when Mom passed and was buried, it strikes me as magical, very spiritual. Most of the time I felt numb. The temperature was below zero and I don’t recall being cold. I recall being raw and surrounded by love. Someone was always there when I was at my breaking point. I am so grateful to many, many kind people.
My Mom touched so many people. Her heart was huge. She was open to all types of people. It was important to her that all felt seen. I understood that more clearly with her passing. Growing up I didn’t always like sharing her. She loved crowds. She was at her best surrounded by people and leading the merriment. I recall growing up huddled around the piano while she played songs, and we all sang our hearts out. Not many good singers in the bunch but that never stopped any of us. Those moments were so special. Some people never experience that type of pure joy. We were so blessed.
Slideshow memorial: https://youtu.be/5SfTdwwOEik
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