My Grandma's Wishes

I think we can all agree that just when life can't get any more complicated, a few more curveballs get thrown at you, and then things get really complicated.  This is a public blog, and I'm not sure who reads it, strangers and/ or friends.   But I do know, that even publicly, this is my little corner of the internet to vent, brainstorm, and contemplate.  Most of you know that my family has dealt with two tragic deaths this week.  Although I wish to protect my family's privacy, the manners in which both of my family members passed can't go unnoticed.  My grandmother had a terrible accident in her home which ultimately resulted in ICU, Hospice, and then her death.  My cousin suffered from a drastic and somewhat sudden onset of depression and committed suicide, in a violent and heartbreaking manner.  They died on the same day, within and hour or so of each other. The reality that death brings with it is so thought provoking and interesting.  The way we all cope and mourn is different, and sometimes even judged. 

My cousin informed me in the days leading up to my grandma's impending death that she'd had a conversation with my grandma, in which my grandma stated her wish that if something were to happen to her, she wanted each of her granddaughters to stand up and speak at her funeral.


I did not speak at my grandma's funeral today.  

I knew I wasn't going to.  I spoke at my dad's funeral.  It was horrible.  I felt like there were no words I could write or say, particularly to a room full of people I didn't know that well, that could convey my relationship, love, and utter sadness that I wanted them to know I felt about my father.  I'm not a crier. By any stretch of the imagination.  Especially not a public crier. However, when it came to my dad's funeral, as soon as I began to speak, the lump in my throat crept up and invaded my speech.  And the words I'd written down, just earlier that day seemed to lose their impact when shared with all those people.  If that doesn't make sense to you, that's okay.  This alone, isn't the reason I chose not to speak today at my grandma's funeral.


The day my grandma died, we all convened at her house to support my grandpa and just be there for each other.  Plus, the rabbi was coming over to go over the plans for her funeral, as well as do some general counseling.  As he reminded us of some of the Jewish traditions surrounding death and mourning, he answered some of our questions.  As a family, we listened respectfully and intently.  He explained to us that to respect the deceased, the funeral was to be kept quite brief and simple.  If we felt compelled to stand up and say a few short words about her, by all means, we could.  But the appropriate, traditional way to mourn was to honor her privately, and in conversations with close friends and family.  He reiterated this need for simplicity more than once, and I thought to myself, "That is exactly what I will do, then."  He also reminded us what was appropriate to wear to the service, and what was appropriate to eat afterwards,  and I honored that as well. 


In my relationship with my grandma, there were SO MANY wonderful qualities.  She had such a unique relationship with each one of her grandchildren, especially us 4 girls. I could fill blog pages for days of the memories I have with her... shopping, talking, eating, talking, dreaming, talking, etc...  

I knew she was my biggest fan, and I also know that Sofia meant more to her than anyone could EVER imagine. At the funeral, the rabbi spoke of the two most important things in my grandma's life- her family and her religion.  And so, in her life, I did my best to respect those things about her, in a way that only I could.  She'd always wanted at least one of her grandchildren to have a Jewish wedding.  And so I did.  Even though I wasn't sure if I believed in everything that was said by the rabbi at my own wedding.  Even though I was marrying a Catholic man (an amazing man that agreed to have a Jewish wedding).  Even though I knew it would make some of our guests uncomfortable.  I did it to honor my grandmother's wishes. 

And then I gave her the only gift she'd ever asked me for, a great granddaughter. I can honestly say that I've never seen a love as powerful and relentless as the love that my grandma had for my daughter instantly.  I was elated that I could make her so happy, again.  During my pregnancy, I decided to honor her again, and name my daughter after her mother, and then had the naming ceremony months later in her house.  I am positive that there were few prouder moments in her life than those times.


Yet, I still felt so humiliated and judged when I chose to not speak at her funeral today.  Because so many of those people don't know these things that I stated above.  As the day went on, and just got more difficult, I started to be more comfortable with my decision.  And here's why:


Although some may see my decision as a dishonor to my grandma's wishes, I felt that to diminish my feelings, actions, relationship, and love to her on a piece of paper in her passing would do just that.  Furthermore, I chose to honor her faith in religion and tradition by remaining silent during her service, as counseled by the rabbi. So what I chose to do, is honor her while she was living.  In ways that no one else would or could.  In ways that were special and unique to me and her. And, although there have been few public tears, I've been mourning sorrowfully each day and night.  She's the last thing I think about at night and the first thing I think of in the morning. 


So, judge if you wish, or don't.  Agree or disagree, it's okay. And, yes, this blog is my vindication to wash off those last drops of insecurity and shame I felt today when people waited for me to step up to that podium and I didn't. But the comfort and confidence I have in that decision, as well as the understanding and expectation that I know my grandma would have for me, brings me the peace that the public eulogies hopefully brought to my cousins. Please remember, as we often forget in times of sorrow and pain, to love one another, and realize that we all cope differently.  What others see (or don't see) doesn't equate what we feel or how we remember.  


In my personal refurbishment, today reminded me that there are so many ways I need to remember to stay true to myself, and pass that value onto my daughters. I know there will be times when I completely disagree with something they will do or say, but if I can raise them to be strong, confident, independent young women, just as the rest of the women in my family, than I'm doing a pretty decent job.