Jami Contemplates Grieving

Unfortunately, the past year or so, I've had several opportunities to consider the grieving process. I've lost a grandfather and several family friends, most recently this past Sunday. In the eleven-plus years we've been married, we've also lost three of the Husband's grandparents and a dear aunt. So I'm no stranger to the whole process, sad to say. And I really believe, as hard as it is, there is great value to the tradition of the viewings and a service. During the days between a loved ones passing and the final service, be it a memorial in a chapel, a celebration of life, or the actual internment, those days find one adrift in a sea of confusion, grief and desire to best remember the loved one. Even for the one who has to oversee the arrangements, there is some cold comfort in routine and effort. For the others, there a security of a plan - we go here at this time, then we will go there. Having viewings serves many purposes. For the grieving family, it is a place to escape the "real" world and live instead in safe haven for their emotions. While you may not feel comfortable sniffling though the grocery store or weeping at the bank, no one will think twice of a niece or grandson crying at the funeral home, whenever they feel the need to. The family is gathered during those days, supporting each other, sharing their pain and remembering the beloved deceased. These are times not only of comfort, but of family growth and strengthening. If these days are not planned as such, the family may be scattered, grieving separately and confused as to what do to. In the cases of all the people we've had to say our final farewells to, hundreds of people wished to share their love of our relative with us, to offer their support, and to say their own goodbyes. If there is only a single service, and those generally during a weekday morning, many of those who wish to are not practically able to complete these functions. When the Husband's aunt passed away, much too young at 55, scores of her friends and coworkers made a point to tell us a story about how she touched their lives. We met people who cared about her and learned about parts of her life we didn't necessarily know much about. It was a great joy in a time of great sorrow. Alternatively, at my own grandfather's service and wake, many people who wanted to honor his life couldn't take a day off work to do so, and with limited time, I know that I could not and did not get to talk to all the people who had something to share about him. The days of the visiting and funeral are emotionally draining and hard to face, but they also really give one the chance to pour out the emotion in a safe and honest way. Like a large task that must be done, grieving is not a single act. Taking time out of your routine to push through the hardest part helps immensely. By the end of the funeral service, there is a calm - the feeling that you have survived the sharpest edge of the grief, and the service is the signal to your emotions to begin the healing. Not to forget or "get over" the loss, but to dull the ache and allow you to continue living and remembering the person the way you want to - the happy moments and good times. Not having that extends and confuses the healing, at least in my case. Maybe it's all me, and everyone hates this tradition but does it because that's what we do. I think it evolved this way for a reason and it's for our emotional health. I do hope, though, that if you think of making your own final arrangements, that you will remember the needs and desires of your loved ones, and not just what you want. I hate to say it, but you'll be the least interest of all the parties.

Jami Remembers

Memorial Day - a time to remember those who have given their lives in service of our nation, and really, of our world. It actually irks me to see carpet stores and used car lots having Memorial Day sales - gee, how nice to honor our fallen soldiers by buying a nice rug. Today, I am remembering three soldiers who fought, served and came home. This year, I've been to three funerals of three WWII vets - my grandfather and two men from our church family. Their service, more than a half-century ago was mentioned at the funerals, because it shaped their lives, and they shaped our world. My other grandfather is alive, and also served in WWII. He was wounded, fairly seriously, and after recovering, returned to action and liberated Rome. Tomorrow, Eddie and I will watch the parade that goes by our house (convenient!) and wave our flags. As I did last year, I'll tell him that today we are remembering that brave people fought and died so that we here in the United States and other countries can be free and live how we want to live. We'll stand when the vets walk by. He's too little to understand now, but I'll keep telling him until he does, and even after that. Regardless of how you feel about the ongoing war, please take a moment to remember that the freedoms you enjoy everyday, even the freedom to disagree with the government and protest the war, those were bought for you at a high price. God bless the families of the soldiers who did not come home. God bless those who lost friends, lovers, and comrades. In loving memory of Pop-Pop, George Libby Sr. and George Paul. Thank you for your service and your legacy.

In Loving Memory of Pop-Pop

My grandfather passed away last night. This illness or whatever it was that took him, progressed too quickly and then too slowly. I am blessed that I got to say goodbye to him and that I had him for as long as I did. My memories of him these last few months will not steal the better ones of him from all the years before. I will put aside the image of the feeble, confused invalid and dwell on the man, because to remember the first is like recalling the killer and forgetting the victim. Pop-Pop told good bad jokes - silly puns and "groaners" - and always had a new one for you. He loved to bike, take long walks, golf and bowl. Pop-Pop played piano, all by ear. While he could read music, reading it just slowed him down. He only had to hear a song enough to get the melody in his head, and after that he could sit down and pick it out. After a few repetitions, he could add harmonies and play it well enough to be on stage. He played as a volunteer for more than 20 years to entertain the patients in the very home he passed away in. My grandfather served our country in the Navy during WWII, even if the most action he saw was the time he fell down the elevator shaft. He did his duty. He worked three jobs at once to support his wife and daughters. He loved his family, his friends and really, he loved people. Once, my grandmother had a silly dream. Pop-Pop conspired with me to set things up as though her dream came true. When my mom and I went to "Glamour Shots" and got all dolled up and photographed, we stopped by to show off our garish make-up. Pop-Pop, who always found something nice to say, observed us a long time and said "Well, your lipstick isn't too bad." He loved my son and I'm so glad they got to meet and that I have a picture of them together. And almost every time he saw me, he told me "you know, you're my favorite granddaughter" (our little joke, seeing as I'm his only granddaughter). Pop-Pop, I will remember you and I will miss you. There is comfort in knowing that we will meet again, even if it's a lifetime away. For while we mourn, we do not mourn as those who have no hope. I love you, Pop-Pop.

On June 24th - Strawberries Mean "I Love You"

In my last post I mentioned that my mother and I were strawberry picking in an tradition started by my grandfather, whose knees and health precluded him from joining us the last several years. Afterward, we stopped by his and my grandmother's home to drop off some berries for them. This evening, my grandfather called me to thank me for them. He was trying to remember how it had started, which I don't remember, just that we went. Then he said "Well, I really appreciate them and I just wanted to say that whenever you have strawberries on, what is today? Nothing special? Well, when you have strawberries around this time of year, just remember that they mean I love you." I love you, too, Pop-Pop.