Preparations.

This process just sucks.

It’s grueling.

It’s emotional.

It’s creepy.

It’s a must.

I HATE the fact that we will all be planning for this one day or our loved ones will be doing it for us.

The picking out the casket, flowers, songs, readings, plots, marker wording….grueling.

The viewing of the body…emotional.

The face looking NOTHING like him…creepy.

Another thing I realize now, looking back, was how HAPPY I appeared at the wake. Happy to see old friends, neighbors, coworkers, family and friends. There’s NO reason to be happy at that time. There’s NO reason to feel like I need to be ON for them. There’s NO reason to engage in ordinary conversations while my 39 year old brother is lying in a casket without a pulse.

Maybe that’s why they think you CAN move on. Because you don’t appear to be sad. Because the shock and adrenalin help you get through. Because the tears are kept in to avoid a scene. Because everyone expects you to BE STRONG.

What does STRENGTH have to do with it anyway? I’m strong but I still LOVE and therefore I GRIEVE. Strength has nothing to do with it. People just don’t know what to say so they make up some hokey phrase that you see in cards and hear in those types of situations.

Another thing I realize now is how horribly I acted at previous wakes. I was the one who avoided the obvious reason why we were all gathering there. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want to upset the person. But they probably wanted me to say EXACTLY what I was avoiding saying. They wanted me to address their feelings at that time, because they were feeling completely BROKEN. My inane conversation likely infuriated them. NO distraction is good at that time. The grief doesn’t step aside for distractions. It seeps through like liquid. It’s perpetual and constant.