Cry-fest 2005

Yeah, so I burst into tears again today.  The memorial service is gonna be on September 18th, a month after she died.  As well as being my parents’ anniversary and Jason’s birthday.

I decided, I’m not sure when, that I was going to do a painting to unveil at the memorial when I stand up to talk. I bought he canvas yesterday and started it.  For a bit after work last night, I looked for my water color paints and started painting.  I continued today.  I have different smaller pictures from photos that I’m copying as best as I can.  And I left a rather large spot blank, because I wanted to put a larger picture of her face there.

Well, I found a good picture of her tonight that I knew would be good for the larger painting and I nabbed it from the collection my mom’s getting together for the memory book they’re assembling.  I sketched her out and handed it to Mike to know what he thought.  He made some additions/correction and handed it back.  I put it back on the easel I made a few years ago that Mike dug out for me to use.  And I was looking at it and glancing over to where my mom had put Nana’s ashes that came today and I started crying.

I just kept thinking that all I wanted to do was hold her hand, hug her, something, again, but now . . . all I have are photos and my painting and . . . ashes.  I think that’s what kills me the most.  How can someone, even someone as small as Nana, be burned down to ashes that fit in so small a box?  Her heart, lungs, arms, legs, eyes that couldn’t see well, ears that couldn’t hear well . . . everything . . .  in a box.

We laugh in a sitcom when we see someone’s ashes accidentally fall into a fireplace or some other stunt.  But the idea of that happening to what is now Nana’s body horrifies me.

::Sighs::  I don’t have much more to say.