Going Through Hell in One Week

April 2017, the month my life would change forever. Two of the greatest people in my life passed away within three days of each other, my uncle and his mom, my mamaw. First I’m gonna explain a little about my uncle. He was a really tall man. He had a funny personality and was loved by so many. A wife who is really short with four kids and a lot of grand children. My uncle was only forty seven. He was and still my favorite. I know you should not say who was and was not your favorite, but everyone does it. He passed just three days before my grandmother, his mom. She was my best friend, my go to, my diary. She was the person I told everything to, all of my secrets and my problems, what some might call my own counselor. This woman was stubborn and did not take anything from anyone. She had cancer and did not let it try and break her down. Seven years is a long time to be living with it, but she did. Like I said, as stubborn as a mule. I never thought they would be gone so soon, but they are. I hate it and can not even think that they are actually gone. I am still in denial. She had many great grandchildren, one of which is my son, who just turned one.

The time it took for the funeral home to do all of the arrangements was a week — one long week of staying in my mamaw's house where everything happened; I sat there trying to wrap my head around the fact that I would not get to talk to either of them again. I wondered why it happened to them, why it happened to me and the rest of my family. I hated the fact that all of the great grandchildren would not be able to get to know them the way all of us did. I was jealous of other great grandchildren; that may seem low, I know, but I hated the fact that my son would not remember her or him. I just hated it. I still do and probably always will.

The hardest part about this was one, they were gone. The second hardest thing was waiting for the funeral. The third was the actual funeral. I hate them with a passion. I have been to quite a bit in my twenty two years of being alive. Questions run through my mind while getting “acquainted” with people that are coming to pay their respects. One of the things is the people who didn’t talk to them much or didn’t know them that well; why do they come? Is it to show that they are sorry, or is it to try and not think about the fact that they didn’t talk to them and regret it, hoping and praying that coming to their funerals will make up for it? Another thought that ran through my head was, why do both of the funerals in one day? Does it take away from one if more people show up to one and not the others? I’m not really sure and still don’t know. I loved both of them with all of my heart and I always would.

The cremation process is what both of them wanted, so that’s what they both received. They had an odd sense of humor, though. My uncle would want us to watch and learn the process of the cremation, which we watched and learned as his wishes. It is literally like a big pizza oven with the person in a cardboard box, and you push the person in. My grandmother, on the other hand, was just weird. She wanted me and my cousin to sing the song “This Girl Is on Fire” while she was being cremated, and we did it. The guy that was in charge of doing the cremations started to laugh, which my mamaw would have loved. She hated seeing anyone sad or hurt. In our family, the best way to make the best out of a bad situation is to joke about it and laugh. We did exactly that. I know they are proud.

I’m trying to make it a point to everyone out there right now. Do not wait to talk to your family and friends. Don’t hesitate. You never know when the best things in life will change. Always say I love you and be careful. They will always be in your heart, but might not be on earth always. You don’t want to regret it if something does happen.