Sunday, September 06, 2009

Arrangements & Haphazard Thoughts

Funeral services for Teri will be held on Wednesday and Thursday, Sept. 9 & 10

Renner Wikoff Chapel
1900 Philo Road
Urbana, IL 61801

Visitation will be Wednesday Sept. 9 from 5 p.m. to 9 p.m.
Funeral services will be at 10 a.m. Thursday, Sept. 10

On a personal note, we are keeping one another afloat here. Today was a particularly tough day as I got up early to say goodbye to my son and his wife. (I will not see my kid for 13 months; have I mentioned he's deploying?) I later met Tim and the kids at the funeral home to finalize the funeral arrangements.

We are still in a state of disbelief. We move about in a daze, one minute believing we are holding it together only to suddenly find ourselves sobbing. I have talked to some friends with such stoicism that I wonder what they must wonder, and I have cried my guts out on whichever shoulder is closest.

I have spent the majority of my time the last couple of days trying to hold my mother up. She is understandably, a wreck. When she is not crying, she agitated, and asking the same questions over and over: Does Grandma know, Does Grandma Know? I've had to tell her countless times that we can NOT knock on the door to tell the neighbors, whom we do not know. I can't leave her alone, but she falls apart in Walgreens, when I pick up her Rx, and in Walmart, when we run in for dogfood.

I am so, so tired. I cannot stop her tears, and have given up constantly trying to sooth her. I feel like I haven't had a second to stop and absorb the events of the last 2 days. Has it only been 2 days? 56 hours, it's been 56 hours.

Mom's sister, my Aunt Karla, is flying in from San Diego tomorrow evening. To comfort her, and be with her, of course, but I selfishly find myself thinking "to give me a break."

And I know damned well that my pointing my finger at my mother for my hardship and heartache is misguided. My Aunt will arrive, a Knightess in Shining Armor, and I'll be able to sleep late a few days, or come home early and take a walk, or talk to Clint and when I have all that, I will find out...

...that I am so, so tired, and it has nothing to do with my mother. I am scared. Scared of the visitation, and scared to see my sister on Wednesday, and scared of the funeral. And I'm scared to live without her. I'm scared of the first time I grab my cell phone to call her and realize that I cannot. I'm scared to not have someone that I can mutually gripe and vent and annoy, someone that will roll her eyes at me and then call me back the next day to listen to another round of whatever it is I'm griping about. Who would put up with that shit but my sister?

Breathe deep, you tell me.

I'm doing lamaze over here, people.

You say I'll get through this.

I'll just have to trust you on it.


  1. you will honey....but as one grieving sister to won't be easy. Eventually it will ease a little but I think it always hurts.

    much love to you from Ernie and me.

  2. I have no words for you, but my heart is heavy and I hate that you're in so much pain right now. Hate it.

  3. You'll get through it. You'll get through it. You'll get through it.

    I promise.

  4. We are definately all in the same scared boat. I am terrified, I don't want to do it without her. I'm scared that I can't, and I HAVE TO anyway.

  5. Lori: I came here by way of Pobble. I'm so sorry for your loss. I've lost a sister, a brother, a mom and a dad to the blasted disease that took your sister. I'm sorry for your pain. You don't know me from Adam but I want you to hear that someone else out in this great big world understands and while it won't make a difference today or tomorrow or maybe even next week...some day I hope it helps to know that you are not alone. My wish for you and your family is peace.

  6. Lori - This must seem impossible for you. I'm so sorry. My heart goes out to you and my thoughts are with you.

  7. I am so sorry for your loss. You have been handed one big plate of terrible and I wish I could take it from you. My very best wishes for you in the coming days and weeks. And...

  8. thoughts and prayers are with you, my love. I wish there was some kind of magic to make it easier. lufyu.

  9. Why life has to be so painful sometimes, I don't know. So very sorry. I totally understand the surreal feelings and the fear. Hang on; I'm glad your aunt is coming.

  10. You will. We do. We eventually do. Much love to you and your family. I wish there was something to do to make it at least marginally better.

  11. Lori, you and your family are constantly in my thoughts. I love you!

  12. Hi Lori
    I am an avid reader of Pobble and came here from there. Other than the fact that I lost two young brothers to cancer and how difficult it was for me, I do know that as time went by it became easier for me to handle because I knew they were no longer in pain, but still it hurts terribly. But for now- know that you have people who are praying for you and your family at this difficult time.

  13. I'm here via Boston Pobble but I've read your blog in the past and I just wanted to offer my condolences and let you know that you and yours are in my thoughts and prayers.

  14. Anonymous1:37 PM

    It's so hard, Lori, and my heart is with you. When I lost my Dad I cried so much I was just numb. I'm sending you and your family prayers for strength to get through the coming days.

  15. Lori,
    I'm so sorry, I had no idea what was happening. May God comfort you, I'll keep you in my prayers.


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