This past weekend seemed rough to me. But I have to be brought down a notch or two, because this weekend was ridiculously hard on some members of my extended family.
One of my cousins passed away this past weekend at the age of 39. He apparently had high blood pressure, but wasn't consistent with taking his medication. He had some type of a flu-like virus last week, but seemed to be feeling better. About 10 minutes after speaking with his parents on the phone, while watching television with his wife and 3 kids, he got up to get something to drink and an aspirin. He collapsed, and apparently that was it. He had a massive cerebral hemorrhage. They kept him on life support long enough for his parents and brother and friends to get there to say goodbye. When they took him off, he died immediately.
If you know me at all, you know I have difficulty making small talk under normal circumstances. Add death to the mix, and I clam up because I don't know what the heck to say and don't want to say the wrong thing. I'm already in a fog this week, not sleeping well worrying about my son. In addition, the anniversary of my brother's death is coming up this weekend.
We couldn't not go, so my sister and I set out to the wake yesterday afternoon. I was freaking out because I just couldn't imagine what I would possibly say to his parents, but especially his wife. How lame does "I'm sorry" and "what a tragedy" sound after I'm sure they've heard that at least one thousand times?
The widow was exceptionally well composed. She was wearing a black sweater set with white piping, and by the time we got to her the white piping had a huge black mark on it that was obviously teary mascara. The widow is a tall woman, and she wasn't wearing any mascara. She's the kind of person that asked how You were doing, how are You holding up under the circumstances, with a smile on her face.
I hugged and kissed her, I gave her my "I'm sorry" and "what a tragedy". And, before I knew it, I put the piping of her sweater set between my fingers and tried to help rub out the mascara stain. I actually said out loud, "Sweetie, you've got to stop letting people cry on you!".
Luckily, she laughed. She even said, "Oh, Fancy, you're never going to change", like she thought it was funny. I will always cringe in horror every time I remember that moment, wondering if I ever will change...
19 hours ago