Sometimes the almost-mindless but always-gratifying act of creating can be therapeutic. This was the case for me as I crafted and assembled favors and wrote a short poem for today's luncheon to follow my mother’s memorial service.
I have mentioned before how I very much like to keep my blog a “happy place” and have only hinted at problems surrounding my mom. Last week, she passed away after nearly three years of longing to die following the death of my stepfather, her professed “first love” of her teens. Because of various consequences, too many to detail, all funeral details were already made, her possessions far away, and I was feeling very disconnected so I volunteered to plan the after-luncheon and make it my mission to host a warm event filled with happy remembrances. I found a childhood photo of my mother and used it to make tags tied to small bags of Hershey’s miniatures -- my mom loved Hershey chocolate.
As I sprinkled each tag with glitter, it felt strange and somehow okay -- you see my mother was cremated (I shake my head as I struggle to even write these words) but her ashes will be buried alongside my stepfather. The sprinkling of the glitter over her smiling face somehow gave me a little … I don’t even know … connection.
Thanks for listening.