July 31, 2024
We arrived at the funeral home a few minutes early and were greeted with a warm smile and words of condolence.
I looked around and thought, yeah, this is a funeral home. The interior was made up to be as inviting as possible and felt somewhat familiar. I then remembered we were at this funeral home a few years ago for my husband’s nephews service so I had been here before, but today, it looked totally different.
It looked different because of the reason I was here this time. I was here to discuss the funeral service for my son.
We were instructed to take a seat and told the funeral Director’s assistant will be out shortly.
I sat there still in disbelief as to why we were here.
I have to plan a funeral for my twenty-eight-year-old son. My twenty-eight-year-old son who was gone way too soon.
I looked around the room and saw pictures hanging on the dark wooden walls and a display stand filled with several types of pamphlets about death and how to handle it. I didn’t think I could cry anymore but, again, the stream of tears began to flow. I reached over to grab a tissue from a lavender floral box sitting on the tiny wooden end table beside me.
And cried.
The Assistant Funeral Director came to the lobby a few minutes later and led us back to a small conference room. We sat down and he expressed his condolences. He explained, since this was a preliminary meeting, he would provide the basic information, give us a package pricing sheet and answer any questions we had. If we decide to allow them to handle John’s services, we should call them by tomorrow to schedule a meeting with The Funeral Director, Mr. Caliman, on August 2nd. We also should let him know the date the funeral service will be held if we’re able to do so.
He briefly explained the various packages and my sister-mom, Cindy, took copious notes and asked all the questions. To be honest I couldn’t think straight and could only answer a few questions so she stepped in just like my mother would have done had she still been here with us.
We returned home just in time to catch my mother’s sisters, Aunt Kay, Aunt Marilyn and Ms. Debbie as they were dropping off a large pan of baked spaghetti, several bags of mixed salad and garlic bread. They greeted me with warm hugs and lots of love as they expressed their condolences.
They could see I was exhausted so didn’t stay very long but told me to call them if I needed anything.
Every time I see my aunts, it makes me miss my mom so much. I really need a hug from her and to hear her say everything will be alright.
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