For the last week an a half we have been on a road trip. It has been good for us to be out of the Denver area for a bit and to spend more time together. It has also been a good opportunity to get to know the people we have become while seeing beautiful parts of the country and honoring our Logan.
The main reason for this trip, however, was to attend my Grandfather’s memorial service in California. My Grandpa died suddenly back in March. While I miss him terribly, I am happy for him. He had said on multiple occasions that he was ready to go (He was 93 and just a month an a half shy of 94) and his death was, from my nurse prospective, a good one. The decision was made to have the memorial this summer to allow for out of state family to attend.
After all of this planning and travel, the time for the memorial arrived… and I couldn’t go.
My mom and Aunt had told me weeks ahead of time that my attendance at the memorial was not mandatory considering the circumstances. I tried to convince myself that I would be able to go anyhow… after all, I wanted to honor my grandfather and celebrate his life.
As the day loomed closer, I became more and more anxious. How was I going to be able to handle this? Could I sit in the back and leave quickly if needed? Would the memorial have a strong impact on Brian? Would I be able to handle hearing taps and bagpipes which get me on a good day? Ultimately, would I be able to honor my grandfather or would my thoughts be consumed with my son?
When the day of the memorial arrived Brian and I talked about how we felt. We decided that the memorial would be too hard for us but that we would attend the reception afterwards to thank the attendees and be present.
During the service we had breakfast together and talked about my grandpa and Logan sharing stories, laughing, and crying. It was a wonderful way to integrate the grief for both of these losses in our lives while celebrating the wonderful gift of having them while we could.
Upon arriving to the reception I was immediately overwhelmed. I find that crowds of people, especially with several not knowing about Logan, feels like navigating a minefield. I worry about those who don’t know innocently asking horrible questions like, “Do you have any children?” or “When are you two going to have children?” I also spend my whole time dreading small talk because, honestly, I have no tolerance for things like small talk and platitudes anymore… My life has become too real, too raw for shallow conversation. I feel like a medusa who is trying to hide how she really looks and it’s exhausting.
Just before we left Brian and I went to see where my Grandpa and his wife, Grandma Jeane, rest. We have been carrying a small travel urn of Logan’s with us on our trip so that he is always with us. I took the urn out and introduced Logan to his Great Grandparents. I asked them to watch over Logan and keep him safe until Brian and I get there… In all truthfulness I am sure that no introductions were needed and my request was being fulfilled long before I asked, but it felt important to me to have this little ritual.
Ultimately, I am thankful that Brian and I decided not to go to the service. I am sure that my grandfather understands and supports our decision in light of recent events, and our private memorial was very meaningful and healing. There are times where I feel like I am babying myself too much, but I definitely know that my emotions are a bit like a ripe peach and much of life can leave me feeling like I’m rolling around unprotected in a spinning lunch pale… One day at a time.
Good things:
- I got to see my family and spend time with them
- Brian and I went to a wonderful brunch at my sister’s boyfriends parent’s house (yikes, that is a long description!), and it was amazing!
- I got to catch up with a couple of friends in between the complete chaos of the memorial activities and packing my mother for her move to Colorado
- Got to celebrate my grandfather with people who love him
- We are in Lake Tahoe now and having a wonderful time
