I was looking over some folders on my computer that are filled with pictures.  While doing so I came across a picture of my Mom and I dancing at my parents 60th wedding anniversary party (April 2004).  My parents were married “64 1/2 years” to quote my Dad.  He repeats it like a little boy who corrects you when you say he is “8 years old”.  “No, I’m not, I’m 8 1/2 years old.”  That half year makes all the difference.  64 1/2 years of marriage.  Technically it’s 64 3/4.  I can not for the life of me imagine being married that long.  And they had the perfect Ozzie & Harriet marriage.  Both doing whatever it took to make the other happy.

I guess what actually prompted me on my post tonite was what happened to me over past 24 hours.  Yesterday I was so concerned about my feelings, or lack of feelings that it worried me and made me question my relationship with my Mom.  Since last nite I spoke to an expert in the field and asked for some advice.  I explained everything I was feeling, or in my case NOT feeling, the explanations that everyone gave me, what I have done since my Mom’s passing and guess what?  He thinks I’m normal.  Just like everyone had told me before, my “grieving” may come at another time, or I am grieving in my own way.  Basically I shouldn’t question my feelings, just go with it.  There is no right or wrong way to grieve.

My only problem today was that it really hit home that I would never see my Mother’s face again other than in a picture.  That’s what caused me to look through all the picture files.  I was a little bummed today, didn’t really feel like getting out of bed, just felt crappy.  That coupled with going back to the same funeral home tomorrow.  Unfortunately 2 days after my Mom’s service, my Aunt Rose passed away.  So just 1 week later and I am walking back into the same funeral home, the same room my Mom was laid out in.  The irony though, is that in that same folder of pictures I found of me dancing with my Mom, I also found a picture of my Mom and Aunt Rose together.  Two people who disliked their picture taken, and here they are posing for the camera.

This picture truly IS worth a thousand words…

Since the passing of my Mom, I have been in a quandary.  I have been questioning my love for my Mom.  And why am I?  Because I still haven’t had a good cry.  I’m not sure why I associate crying with the loss of a loved one, but I do.  It’s really been bothering me.  Everyone I talked to about it has given me every reason imaginable for my behavior; “everyone grieves in their own way”, “you need to be strong for rest of your family”, “it will hit you down the road when you least expect it”, “it’s because you were letting go for months which eased the pain”, and several other reasons that I can’t even remember.

I stood-by and watched my family members breakdown and cry when she first died.  Then again at the funeral home while making arrangements, 2 days later on my birthday I thought I would lose it, all week leading up to the day of the funeral, then on the day of the funeral I watched people who didn’t know her as well as me sobbing, seeking comfort, and bawling their eyes out, however I just stood by and watched and delivered my eulogy without choking on my words.  Even at the cemetery, not a single tear.  what is wrong with me?  Am I that insensitive?  Did I not love my Mom as much as I thought I did?  Why am I questioning this, why does it bother me so much?

A day hasn’t passed that I haven’t looked at her pictures, or stopped by her grave.  I wish I could just have my breakdown and get it over with.  I wish I could understand this whole situation.  Until I figure it out, I’ll remain dazed and confused…

Today was the funeral for my Mom…I think the best thing I can do as a tribute is to include my eulogy that I read at her funeral service…

Legacy of Love.

A wife, a mother, a grandma too,
This is the legacy we have from you.
You taught us love and how to fight,
You gave us strength, you gave us might.
A stronger person would be hard to find,
And in your heart, you were always kind.
You fought for us all in one way or another,
Not just as a wife not just as a mother.
For all of us you gave your best,
Now the time has come for you to rest.
So go in peace, you’ve earned your sleep,
Your love in our hearts, we’ll eternally keep

Over the course of the past week, several people have said to me “it must be rather difficult to lose a parent during the holidays” (just 2 days after Christmas, 2 days before my birthday and having a funeral 2 days after New Years) and although there is no “good” time to lose someone I have to admit, it hasn’t been easy. Those of us that are saddened by the loss of my Mom, know full well that Mom would not want us crying over her passing. In fact if you are very quiet you can hear her whispering that she’s okay, she’s happy, she’s not sad, she’s not in pain. During this time of the year while people are enjoying the joyous celebrations of the holidays, don’t mourn the passing of this woman we fondly call Hun, Mommy, Mom-Mom, Great Mom, Aunt Helen or just plain Mrs. Allen. Instead I ask you to celebrate her joyous life.

Her life WAS joyous. Those that know my Mom, know that the most important aspect of her life was her family. Nothing else came even close to second. Even though she didn’t grow up rich and wealthy, her love of family was far more important and valuable. And don’t you dare say something negative about one of her family members, or she would straighten you right out! I know, cause she straightened me out more than once.

I know this may come as a shock to many of you, but I inherited many of my Mom’s finer traits. Stubbornness, bullheaded, opinionated, just to name a few. But if I had to pick 1 thing that I feel my Mom instilled in me that I am most proud of, it’s “TRADITION”. And at this holiday time, tradition for Mom was as rich as her life. I don’t think she enjoyed any holiday more than Christmas. Her greatest pleasure was the happiness of her family during this time of the year. No matter what the cost. Just ask my Dad and his wallet!

Some of my earliest memories with Mom revolve around Christmas. I remember as if it were yesterday, when I was growing up in Camden, Mom and I would take the bus to Philly. We would visit the department stores; Gimbels, Lits, Wanamakers and see the giant Santa Village display, Dicken’s Village and the famous Christmas Tree light display. We would judge the display windows and then meet my Dad for lunch at one of the restaurants in the stores. And of course, the day was not complete without a visit to Santa to give him my list.

Although the names of the retailers have changed over the years, some of these “traditions” still exist. When my family and I moved back to south Jersey, every year we have taken Kyle and Cory to experience these same holiday events. I don’t know if I did it for them, for me or my Mom, but those are the rich holiday traditions that will always be a part of me. And it doesn’t stop there. To this day, I have to have the biggest, widest, fattest, tallest Christmas tree that will fit in our room. Like my Mom, price is no object. And it has to be decorated with the large lights, not those tiny mini-lights and ALWAYS, ALWAYS tinsel! Each strand meticulously placed, one by one. Never thrown or tossed onto the tree. Also, just like when I was younger, my kids (even at 25 & 17) can’t come downstairs before Donna & I come down first and turn on the tree lights. As a parent, I hope my kids continue some of those same family traditions my Mom instilled in me. Macy’s now houses the Dicken’s Village, the Christmas Tree light display and is home to Santa and the North Pole. This year, as we were exiting the Dicken’s Village display, employees, dressed in Dicken’s holiday costumes were handing out small buttons/pins. On them, it said “Macy’s – Christmas 2008, BELIEVE”. Mom, I believe!

Those are traditions that define people. That make you what you are. I am proud to admit right here in front of everyone, I am a “Mama’s Boy”. I’m not ashamed of it. There is probably no greater bond between two human beings, than that of a mother and child. At least it starts out that way in life. The woman who carried you for nine months, gave birth to you and nurtured you. Along the way many relationships break down and families fall apart. But as the years progressed, I can say that my relationship with my Mom grew stronger and stronger. Oh I know she wasn’t always the easiest person to get along with, but guess what, neither am I. I can’t imagine where I get that from?

Often times you hear about people who have regrets or sadness that they did not come to peace with a loved one after they are gone. Maybe they never had the chance to say “I love you” one last time, or maybe they fought with the person and said something they regret for eternity. I never missed an opportunity to kiss my parents and say “Love ya” when coming or leaving. Nine years ago, many of you may recall the horrific car accident that almost took the life of my parents. The thought of possibly losing both parents at the same time only reinforced my love and from that time on, I made sure I would never have any regrets.

As I was sitting at my desk typing this, I thought back upon the last fun filled time we shared together. Since Mom had been hospitalized since March of this year there were few opportunities during the last 9 months. My last great memory was 1 year ago, New Years Eve 2007. Again, as family tradition, my parents would come over to our house around 6pm and we would have our famous surf and turf dinner. After dinner and before the big ball would drop, we would usually play a game of Pictionary, or Trivial Pursuit. Last year, for whatever reason, I decided to forgo the usual board game and located the videotapes of the years my parents joined us on our annual trek to Disney World. I can honestly say I can’t ever remember my Mom laughing as hard as she did that night. Laughing at us and at herself. As most of you know, Mom was not the biggest fan of having her picture being taken. I’m surprised we found as many pictures of her as we did for the picture board. But when she watched herself being hugged by Donald Duck, kissed by Mickey Mouse and totally enjoying herself, it was probably the greatest joy of my life. Who here can picture my Mom hamming it up for the camera with Goofy? Seeing her face as she hopped on the rides was priceless. And she walked every part of that park, never slowed down. True to her nature, her greatest enjoyment was knowing her family was enjoying themselves. And my greatest enjoyment was watching her enjoy her family. I’ll cherish that for the rest of my life.

I would like to thank all of you for coming here today to help us, as a family, to heal, and to celebrate my mother’s life.

Dad, I can’t know what it’s like to lose someone you love that much. All I know is that I feel she is watching over us. I hear Mom telling me to be true to my own character and values and traditions. And thus, my mother will live on within me, and through me, for the rest of my life.

I’d like to leave you all with this quote, by Helen Keller. She said, “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart”

IF, by the end of her life, my mother ended up touching all of your hearts —-then I ask you, what else can anyone ask for in this world.

Thank you, Mom. I love you…

Happy New Year…well, I can only hope that the new year will be happy.  I figure it has to improve.  It’s so hard to believe that only a year ago my Mom was here celebrating the New Year and how quickly her health deteriorated. Of course this New Years was different than previous years, but we tried to make it as similar as possible. Filet mignons on the grill and lobster tails.  After dinner we played a game of Trivial Pursuit and then waited for the countdown to midnight.  After that, everyone is ready for bed and I head to the cemetery to see Tom.

9 years ago, at 11:00pm on New Years Eve, my brother-in-law Tom died.  Every New Years since then I always visit his grave after midnight.  I’ll get to see Tom a lot more often now because my Mom will be buried next to Tom.  However tonite when I arrived at his grave, I was met with a big surprise that I wasn’t expecting. They had already dug my Mother’s grave site.  As I approached his marker, I saw a large canvas tent covering the unearthed plot.  It was a little bit of a shock for me.  But I told Tom that he will have company soon.  Tom and my Mom got along great so I know he will watch over her.  I then got back into my car and headed home.

Strange way to start the new year, can only imagine how it will progress over the next 12 months.  I do know this, the next 48 hours are going to be the toughest.  Please tell me it will get better…

There is probably no greater bond between 2 human beings than that of a mother and child.  At least it starts out that way.  In some cases that bond falls apart over the years and in other cases it only grows stronger.  In the case of my Mother and me, it was the latter.  That “bond” begins on the day you are born.  And now, less than 48 hours after my mother’s death, I am “celebrating” my birthday.  53 years ago she gave birth to me.  53 years ago, we created that bond.  I admit, I am a Mama’s Boy.  I’m not ashamed to admit it.  My sister would be first to admit that my Mom always liked me best.

This is my first birthday without hearing my Mom wish me a “Happy Birthday”.  What I wouldn’t give to hear it just 1 more time.  And now to get a birthday card from my Dad signed only by him, and not signed “Happy Birthday, love Mom & Dad”.  What was even worse was waking up to read my Mom’s obituary in the Courier Post.

Today I spent my birthday making notes and working on writing what I am going to say at my Mom’s funeral service Friday.  It’s tough putting things into words.  The thoughts are all there, but putting it in writing is totally different.  I should be able to finish it up tomorrow, at least my first draft.

So it wasn’t much of a birthday today, didn’t even feel like getting out of bed.

Happy Un-birthday to me,
Happy Un-birthday to me,
Happy Un-birthday dear Steve,
Happy Un-birthday to me…

As difficult yesterday was, today was almost as bad.  Today I had to go with my Dad and sister to make all the arrangements at the funeral home.  I know the funeral homes would like to think they make it easy on the families, but they don’t.  First selecting the day of the service; then the wording of the obituary; then discussion of hair and make-up; the clothing and accessories; then select a casket; wood, steel, copper, brushed copper, titanium, 16 gauge, 20 gauge, different looks, different finishes, different handles; then select the fabric and color for inside; then you have to look though prayer cards and signature book, then select a verse for the prayer cards, and if that’s not enough, then you find out you need to select a concrete vault for the casket to be placed in before being buried, then flower arrangements, music requests, pastoral arrangements…it never stops.  THEN they break out the calculator.   That alone could kill you…

As the week progresses it will only get more difficult. Digging out pictures for the picture board, meeting with the pastor, meeting with florist, just to name a few things.  Then on top of that, it was agreed that I would write something to read about my Mom, and also read whatever my Dad, sister or grandkids write.  It was felt I was the “strongest” and could handle it better.  Lucky me.  Don’t get me wrong, for my Mom, I’ll endure anything.  I have no doubt I’ll get though it with minimal tears but when it’s over I’m afraid I’ll suffer the breakdown I have been waiting for.

I received a few comforting phone calls from friends who found out about my Mom which was nice. Then my Dad came over to watch the Eagles game and have dinner.  And even though he looked tired and drained, with dark circles under his eyes, it looked like an unbearable weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  I think he is now at peace knowing my Mom is at peace.  I know he questions every decision he made while she was in the hospital but he has NOTHING to second guess.

I’m gonna try and get some sleep tonite, I haven’t slept more than 2 – 3 hours since Christmas Eve.  It’s been 24 hours and I miss my Mom…

At 12:15pm today my Mom passed away while she slept.  She looked peaceful and not at all in pain.  The past 10 hours seem to be surreal.  I can’t explain my feelings cause I’m not sure I have any feeling yet.  I still feel numb.  We all walked into the room as a family and saw her.  We hugged and held each other.  Then we left and met at my sister’s where we talked, discussed a few details, had dinner and then we all left for home.

And now what?  I don’t know what I am supposed to do.  Do I cry?  Do I breakdown?  Do I throw a fit?  Do I lose control?  Do I get drunk?  I feel lost.  Lost in many ways.  Every memory of my Mom since I can remember is flashing before me at hyper-speed.  Over and over again.  Some make me laugh and some make me tear up.  But despite everything, I haven’t had a good cry.  Is that normal?  Maybe when the numbness wears off?

Tomorrow I have to meet my sister and Dad at the funeral home to discuss details of the services.  Services that I know my Mom would never want, but my Dad wants for his own closure.  And despite the wishes of my Mom, we will keep my Dad appeased by agreeing to his wishes.

It’s been a long week and it’s about to get even longer.  There is no “good” time for things like this to happen.  But now every Christmas, every year on my birthday and every New Year, I will be reminded of my Mom.  Even if she passed away in the middle of June, I would remember her fondly, but happening at this time of the year, which usually represents a time for joyous celebration, there will be a piece of me that isn’t so joyous.

I can say one thing without any hesitation, I was always at peace with my Mother, I love her and told her that every time, and best of all, she knew it.  I know some people have so many regrets when a family member passes away.  They wish they had a better relationship or wish they could take back something they said, but as for me, I have no regrets…

It’s been over 9 months since my Mom first entered the hospital.  I knew then that she would not be coming home.  Over those months I had a lot of time to think about her health and as much as I hated to face it, I prepared myself for the worse.  Or at least I “think” I have.  I won’t really know til that phone call comes.  And even that became a topic of conversation.  Today, my sister and I had to have a discussion regarding how we would communicate the news.  Who prepares for that?  Why do we have to have a specific conversation about how to break the news to my Dad WHEN the time comes?  I know we need to be prepared and we need to be on the same page, but it just seems so clinical.

The hospice nurse told us today that she didn’t think my Mom would make it through the weekend.  Her breathing has become even more shallow, she doesn’t even open her eyes anymore. She sleeps now 24/7.  The morphine is making her comfortable.  She looks peaceful while she’s sleeping. The nurse also felt that the only reason she has hung on this long is because of my Dad.  He is by her side, rubbing her shoulder, stroking her hair and holding her hand every minute he is there.  He has the patience of Job (64 years of marriage does that to you I guess). And although deep down I think he has come to accept her situation, he hasn’t completely let go.  And that is the reason the nurse feels she is still hanging on, because my Dad hasn’t totally let go.  Once she knows he is “okay” with everything, she will also “let go”.

And to tell the truth, as much as I feel I lost my Mom 9 months ago, I don’t think I have completely let go either.  Even though I am sitting around staring at the phone, waiting for it to ring, how can I say I’m ready if there is even the smallest part of me that hopes it never rings.  I know I have to, but I just hate admitting that I am letting go…

I’ve dreaded it for months…and now it finally arrived.  Christmas 2008 was by far the most depressing Christmas that I can ever remember.  I just NEVER felt like it was a holiday.  I tried, I really tried to enjoy myself for the sake of my family, but I just couldn’t seem to get it together.  Despite the excitement of exchanging presents, listening to holiday songs on the radio and sitting down to a big dinner, my mind was thinking of my Mom.  What hit me really hard was when I realized that it’s not just this Christmas, but she won’t be attending ANY future Christmas.

The little happiness I experienced Christmas was when I went to visit my Mom today.  Although she was sound asleep as I expected, she was dressed in a bright holiday top and covered with a red Christmas blanket.  Her nurse told me that her 2 regular aides gave them to her.  How cool is that…?  I sat there with her for about an hour then headed home for our dinner.

By the time I got home, it was time to eat.  Everyone was waiting.  In the past, as everyone arrived, we would exchange gifts, then have dinner.  But of course things were not the same, so we ate dinner THEN exchanged gifts.  I like traditions, I don’t like change and today was FAR from tradition.  Today was all about change.  It was the first Christmas in our new house; we had less workspace in the kitchen which made cooking for 20+ people all the more hectic; our family room is in the basement so everyone was crowded into the living room; and we exchanged gifts after dinner.  But the biggest change of all was the fact my Mom was not sitting there.  It wasn’t Christmas without her.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t adjust to the changes.  I felt helpless, I felt odd, I felt weird, I felt strange, I felt…out of sync…

Christmas…I believe one of my earliest memories of Christmas time was when I lived in Camden and my Mom and I would ride the bus to Philly.  We would walk through all the big department stores; Gimbels, Wanamakers, Strawbridges, Lit Brothers…The beautiful window displays and all the decorations.  No trip would be complete without a walk through Dicken’s Village or see the Christmas Tree light show.  Then we would meet my Dad, who worked in center city, for lunch.  Of course I had my picture taken with Santa and gave him my list of toys.  Usually building blocks, army men and a board game or two.  (Do kids actually ask for board games these days?). I believe…

I believed Santa delivered all those toys on Chrismas Eve night.  I believed he arrived via a sleigh pulled by 8 tiny magical reindeer. I believed he set up our tree and decorated it with lights, decorations and tinsel.  I believed he built all the toys he delivered.  I believed he ate those cookies and drank the milk I left for him.  I believed he knew who was naughty and who was nice.  (I was always on my best behavior starting around Thanksgiving).  And when I layed in bed Christmas Eve trying to fall asleep, I believed I heard him downstairs one night and in fact I believed I even saw him one Christmas Eve night when I snuck downstairs, but quickly ran upstairs and hid under my covers cause I believed if he saw me, I would only get coal in my stocking.  I believed all this cause my Mom told me it was true.  I believe…

Now here I am, December 24, 2008 and I still believe.  I believe I have continued the tradition my Mom set for me decades ago, and without fail every year I still take my family to Philly to see what few traditions remain.  Thank goodness for the Christmas Tree light display and the ageless Dicken’s Village.  Although the name of the retailers have changed, this year, Macy’s has continued both those traditions I remember so well.  However this year, at the end of the Dicken’s Village display, employees were handing out small buttons that simply said “Believe – Macy’s Christmas 2008″.  Thank you Macy’s, I believe…

I believe I credit my Mom for all these wonderful wonderful holiday memories.  My Mom would be baking all kinds of cookies the entire month of December.  She would be decorating the house with every imaginable decoration.  She would be shopping for family and friends every day since Thanksgiving.  I believe Christmas was by far, her favorite holiday.  And now, as I sit here typing this, my Mom is laying in a hospital bed in a nursing home and her condition is worsening.  She is on oxygen now, and her breathing is labored and shallow.  She sleeps almost the entire day.  She now has contracted pneumonia. They are giving her morphine every hour.  The hospice nurse said all they can do is make her comfortable right now.  I believe that the time is getting closer.  I believe she is getting tired.

I believe Mom, I believe…