So, it all fell on me. I picked out what she was going to wear, I picked out the casket, I told them how to style her hair, I helped write the obituary and I took care of getting the church notified and arranging the funeral.
Those next three days were like a blur to me—there was so much to be done with arrangements and other family members being contacted that I just didn’t have time for anything except preparations. It all fell on my shoulders and it really did not give me an opportunity to grieve for her. I was too busy planning and taking care of my sister and grandmother. They had virtually fallen to pieces.
After it was all over, I decided to go back to work immediately. I worked myself to the bone to keep from thinking about my mom. But each day for the next several months, my life consisted of work, school and taking care of my grieving family. It did not get any easier for a long time.
I decided after that to move in with my grandmother to help her out. She had let the whole situation affect her health and her mental stability. I stayed with her for almost three years before I finally had to come to the realization that she needed more care than I could give her. She needed to be in an assisted living facility. My sister went on with her life and did not bother to help with our grandmother. She was just too busy for that kind of nonsense as she called it.
After finally getting my grandmother the help she needed, I was able to get a place of my own and start dating and having a life of my very own. A life that did not involve taking care of someone.
It took many years for me to finally have a moment to grieve for my mother. And it came at a time when I should have been the happiest in my life. I was getting married almost seven years after my mother had died and the day of my wedding it hit me.
