To me, both are a time for celebration.
One is to celebrate a new life, a precious baby.
The other is to celebrate a life a person lived. To reminisce about that person. A time to think about all the memories you and that person shared. A time to tell stories.
Death brings people together.
March 2, 1998 my grandmother, Colette Rose Weisbeck-Peyton died.
At the time I was 13, there was no joy for me. There was only sorrow. I could only think about how the candy drawer would never be full again of miniature reese's peanut butter cups. Or when I visited her at work, my grandpa and her owned a liquor store, we would never walk next door and get ice-cream again. I would always get pink bubble gum with little pieces of bubble gum in the ice-cream. The bubble gum was always harder than a rock and you could never really chew it. Or how she would never send me next door with a five dollar bill to Walgreens to buy a fuzzy poster.
I remember staying the night and always waking up to the smell of coffee, eggs, and smoke. I can still smell that smell, I loved it.
I remember one day I was over at her house, it was a Sunday, I was in the eighth grade. I had a paper due that Monday. This was the time when typing your papers out was new, not all teachers required it, this particular teacher did. I remember grandma setting down this massive yellow/greenish type writer. Now mind you my grandpa had all new the newest technology. There was a computer in the next room. However, we knew better than to touch grandpas computer, paints and brushes.
I thought I was a good at typing. I never realized how much I use the delete button, and still do. I can look back and laugh now, but I have never been so stressed at typing something out. I waited til I got home and finished my paper.
It's weird what memories are stronger than others. I often wonder what my children's memories of their childhood will be.
I 99.9% was sure I was going to survive this cancer battle. However, there was the .01% that hung in the air. That little nagging little voice telling you, you are going to die. Cancer is going to kill you. You will never see your little girls grow up. They will forget what your hands look like.
It's amazing when you think you are/could die what you think about. I was worried my children would forget what my hands look like.
Of course you think of bigger picture things, first dates, proms, graduations, weddings, grand-babies. But, the hand thing hit me hard.
I knew my grandma was close to me while I was going through chemo and at other times in my life. Out of the three grandparents that I have lost she is the only one that "talks" to me.
When I was pregnant with Ella my grandma came to me in a dream. We were in my living room, I can tell you exactly where she stood and what she said, but for the life of me I can't tell you what she wore. She asked me how my pregnancy was going. She was excited it was going to be another girl, she thought I was a good mom to girls. At this point I didn't know Ella was a girl. She told me some other things but, I like to keep them between her and me. This is how Ella became Ella Rose.
She came to me one other time. It was after my first chemo when I got the blood infection. I could not tell you if I was asleep or awake. At the end of my bed there she was. Once again, can't remember the clothes. This time we did not have a conversation, only she talked. Once again that will stay with me, but I knew I was not dying just felt like it.
I never told anyone but, I had my funeral all planned out.
I wanted a simple casket white lining on the inside, I didn't want anything pink.
I wanted my own pillow, the one I slept on every night. I didn't want some fru fru pillow that came with the casket.
I wanted to be buried in my sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt. Unless it was summer, then I wanted my black yoga capris and a t-shirt. I want to be bare foot. I want my flip-flops and Uggs in the casket with me. You never know!
I want Jason to place a single band on my wedding finger. I don't want to be buried with any of my jewelry. I want my children to have it all.
I wanted my viewing to be held here where I live. Even though clothing wise I look like shit/normal everyday like, please make sure my hair and make-up look good. Nothing special just always how it looks.
I wanted my funeral to be at Assumption Church. I'm pretty sure my grandparents were married there. My grandfather funeral was there. Both my babes were baptized at Assumption. My wedding was planned there, but something else came up.
Music I had picked out was Ava Maria. I walked down the aisle hand in hand to a very important man to marry the man of my dreams to that song. Plus there is a little joke that goes with that song.
I also wanted, It's a Wonderful World, by Louis Armstrong. That was the song my father and I danced to at my wedding. The last song would be by Dean Martin, You're Nobody Til Somebody Loves You. That was the song Jason and I danced to for our first dance.
I didn't want a huge/long catholic service. Even dead I didn't want to sit/lay through it. Plus the Body of Christ bread makes me gag.
I wanted my mom, dad, sister, brother and husband to share a memory of me.
I want Wisdom 3:1-9 read
The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God,
and no torment shall touch them.
They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead;
and their passing away was thought an affliction
and their going forth from us, utter destruction.
But they are in peace.
For if to others, indeed, they seem punished,
yet is their hope full of immortality;
Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed,
because God tried them
and found them worthy of himself.
As gold in the furnace, he proved them,
and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself.
In the time of their judgment they shall shine
and dart about as sparks through stubble;
They shall judge nations and rule over peoples,
and the LORD shall be their King forever.
“When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. 6But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you. In praying, do not babble like the pagans, who think that they will be heard because of their many words.Do not be like them. Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.
“This is how you are to pray:
Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
1your kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as in heaven.
Give us today our daily bread;
12and forgive us our debts,
as we forgive our debtors;
13and do not subject us to the final test,
but deliver us from the evil one.
If you forgive others their transgressions, your heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you do not forgive others, neither will your Father forgive your transgressions.
At the end I wanted each one of my girls to have two flowers. They will lay a single flower (their choice) on my casket, they will keep the other flower to remember me by.
This will be the end of the funeral.
I wanted to be buried by my grandparents. On the hill overlooking the green land. I want to be surrounded by people I loved.
I usually don't like to post stuff like this. There are many emotions that come with having cancer hell, just living life. Today is a somber mood kind of day and felt the need to share with you.
Have a happy Monday and hug someone you love tight tonight.