Now I find myself thinking thoughts that seem like they belong to a 5-year-old. I don't know what happens after death. I know she's not here, but where is she? Or, is she at all? Can she see me, can she hear my thoughts now, without needing my silly blog?
Her memorial service was beautiful, everyone agreed. The funeral home we used was much better than the one we used last week for my grandmother. This one made a video tribute from pictures we provided, they recorded and webcasted the service, and they made a lovely 16x20" memory portrait that now enjoys pride of place between the dining room and the kitchen. Coincidentally, I had a brand new, still wrapped wooden frame in the basement with my things... I bought it years ago because I thought it was beautiful, but never found the right use for it, and then it was too big and fragile to take to Turkey, so here it stayed. Her portrait looks perfect in it, as if they were made for each other, and the frame suits the house perfectly as well. It waited a long time to find its purpose, but I'm glad it has.
The flower arrangements we made turned out well, too. Since she was cremated, there was no grave to put flowers, so we thought it was silly to buy a bunch of big, expensive bouquets from the florist, especially since we didn't love the ones we saw anyway. So we decided to buy unarranged flowers that meant something to us and make the bouquets ourselves. Mom's favorite flower was yellow roses, so we got two dozen yellow and two dozen mixed color. Oguz and I chose three bunches of tulips in yellow, purple and a gorgeous yellow-tipped red to symbolize our love from Turkey. Oma bought a sophisticated mix of white flowers. Dad also loves stargazer lilies, so we got 3 stems of those from a local florist. They were as big as umbrellas. Oma and I made the bouquets in our own vases, including some green filler and white accent flowers from some of the arrangements we brought home from my grandmother's funeral last week. Our finished bouquets were all lovely, and the funeral director even asked where we got them. Oguz said it was because they see hundreds of flower arrangements every week and they all pretty much follow the same pattern, but ours were unique. That made me happy. Mom deserved something special.
You can't feel sad about something like this all the time, it would be overwhelming. I feel normal, I feel happy, I have a lot to be happy about and look forward to, and I'm enjoying spending time with my dad. But it's as if I'm standing at the edge of a canyon into which someone shouted something terrible, and the echo reaches me often: She's gone. She's gone. It's a scenario we often pondered, but now it's so... true.
Too much stress and sadness, I've gotten sick. I've tried really hard to stay healthy, but I admit our eating habits haven't been the best, and it's a lot to withstand. Can't take medicine because of junior, but I guess it's just a cold, so no big deal. In fact, I think it's time for bed, the more rest the better, right? Goodnight.
