30 minutes isn't long enough
Today I watched the online service for my ex sister-in-law. She lived in Canada and I wasn't able to attend in person, but thankfully, her girls sent me a link so I could watch online. A lot of people may not understand caring for an ex relative. Divorce is supposed to sever all of those ties, right? But that's not always the case.
On February 1, I got a Facebook message from one of my ex nieces. She told me her mother's condition was grave and I might want to call before it was too late. I wasn't shocked by the call. For several years, her Mom had been in an assisted living facility and had been struggling with many health issues. We'd stayed in touch during that time and had been sporadically in touch since 1974 via phone or mail, but with the invention of Facebook, we touched base several times a day.
When we first met, over 50 years ago, I was thrilled. I'd never had a sister in law before. She was like a big sister to me and though she wasn't that much older than me, I wanted to be like her. We had so much in common - our love of crocheting, sewing, and many other types of crafts. We didn't get to see each other often, since distance was an issue, but when we did, we made the most of our time doing things we loved.
Once, shortly after my first husband and I married, she and her husband came down to spend the week with us. They traveled from Vermont all the way down to Georgia. It was such a fun week as we cooked together, played card games, and ran around sight seeing. When it was time for them to leave, we made a promise we'd see each other again soon, but that never happened due to several things. Her husband passed away and I got divorced.
We passed gifts to one another back and forth through mail, always trying to find something unique and fun. It was a way of letting each other know we still loved and cared for one another. Once she made me a beautiful crocheted sweater and sent it to me for Christmas. I wore that thing until it fell apart. And who knows how many mugs we went each other - personalized with both our names, so we'd never forget. Now she's gone.
During that last phone call, I could tell she was struggling to breathe. She'd been on oxygen for a long time because of COPD and other issues, but I hadn't expected the constant breathlessness as we talked. At one point, I was so worried about her talking, I asked her to stop and rest. I wanted her to take a break, not only for herself, but also for me. It made me extremely anxious hearing her struggle for air. During that time, I recounted old memories and she'd giggle as she remembered. Before we hung up, I told her I loved her and wanted her to keep fighting. I had no idea she'd die the next morning and when I got the news, I was heartbroken. Not only for her girls, but also for her second husband. I also beat myself up because I hadn't thought to share the plan of salvation with her. Instead of reminiscing, in an effort to make her laugh, I should have been more concerned about where she'd spend eternity. I've tried to take solace in knowing she was raised in the Catholic faith, but I still feel I let her down.
The service was streamed and only lasted about 30 minutes. During that time, a very young priest did his best to give a nice sermon. Since he'd never met my ex sister-in-law, he only knew what the family had shared with him. He did an okay job, but could have done better.
I was so sad to see her urn sitting on a wooden table at the front of the funeral home. There was one very small floral arrangement there. Before the "service" began, a quick slide show was presented. There weren't even 35 photos...it was so sad.
The camera was angled toward the front pew. Sitting there were her 2 daughters and one son in law. I couldn't help but watch them as the priest talked. One of the girls was very distraught. The other was doing her best to be strong.
30 minutes. That's all she got. This wonderful friend, wife, mother, grandmother, sister, and aunt...half an hour. It seemed ludicrous to me. How can you honor someone who's lived and loved for 74 years and sum it up in 30 minutes? But that's all she got and that made me wonder how much time I'll get when I leave this Earth. Will my family take time to celebrate my life? I hope so. Will they be devastated at my leaving? I assume so, but I also hope they'll be happy for me - that I'll have no more pain or suffering. I've been through an awful lot of that throughout my life.
When I die, I plan to be cremated. I've already got my urn. I bought it at an antique sale held by the mega church I used to work for many years ago. It's a lovely shade of turquoise and I got it for $5 - what a steal! I told my husband and the kids I wanted to have my ashes put in the urn and then, whenever they were ready, I wanted to be taken to one of our favorite camping spots - Cumberland Island, and be sprinkled there at Sea Camp beach.
I don't really care if I get more than 30 minutes but I do hope they take time to remember good things about me. I've tried to live my life well and live it to the fullest - despite criticism, hurt, and pain from those who didn't even try to understand me. And many of those have been family members who say I use things I experience as "fodder" for my blog. It hurts to know they feel that way, but blogging is cathartic and healing for me. I don't force any of them to read what I write.
I'll miss my sweet friend and ex sister-in-law. She was a good person and she will be greatly missed. 30 minutes doesn't seem like a long time down here, but up in heaven, I imagine it would feel like an eternity. I pray I'll see her there one day and if I do, we're going to do a lot of catching up.
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