Jenn's funeral

Jennifer Wiswall Ware's funeral Mass was today. We met at the funeral home to gather for the million mile processional. Over 100 people were at the funeral home to process in their cars to the church. Jill is here and takes some medication for the church service (it is leftover anti anxiety medication from dentist appointment---the same dentist appointment she had the day she came to my house to see Chris.) I had gone to the airport with Wendy to pick up Doug, so I had the opportunity to finally ask her about the end of Jenn's life. I was curious about the process and if it was similar to Chris'. Wendy said that they knew Jenn was failing but the thought was to get her to the hospital to get her strength back (just like we went on Hospice to get Chris stronger so we could get to Florida). I was relieved somewhat and felt a little like this must be how it happens all the time, the family (I) doesn't know that the end is really near until the very very end. I hope Chris didn't know.

The ride to the church is very long, we are in the third ca I cannot believe how long the processional is. It seems like an endless flow of cars. When we get to the church and park there is an "honor guard" of students from Bishop Feenan where Jenn's eldest daughter attends. The high schoolers are out on the steps with no coats on, their uniforms crisp and green plaid.

We process into the church followed by Jenn in her Pink Casket(her favorite color).
The mass begins. Many people are softly crying throughout the service. I feel ok, sad but not on the verge of anything. Until at one point prior to the eulogies I notice many of my sisters (in law) crying and being held by their boyfriends or husbands. Every Wiswall has a shoulder to cry on, and I am sitting here between Jess and Wendy. The realization that I am alone and that I don't have Chris to comfort me hits me. It feels like a giant white freezing cold knife falls from the ceiling and goes right through me and slices my hear apart. The physical pain is real, it is sharp, cold, penetrating, excruciating. I breathe in the air feels cold. A sob so big and so loud comes bubbling up. I know that if I let it go I will cry so loudly that I will frighten everyone. I want to scream and cry and sob and wail and weep and thrash and yell and just turn myself inside out. The tears silent and safe stream down my face. They burn in sharp contrast to the cold hard pain of the knife in my heart. I am gasping trying to quell the large sobs, I don't want to scream, but I fear I cannot hold on any longer. The act of pushing air down makes me nauseous and I feel like I may throw up. I am panicky, frightened, cold and hysterical. I gasp rather loudly and finally cannot hold back the muffled sobs. My nose is running, my eyes burn I just want to die right here and now. I don't want to live one more second this is fucking unbearable. I try to will my heart to stop, it doesn't I let out another cry, not so loud that everyone looks except my pew mates. Doug, Wendy's boyfriend reaches across and rubs my back. It makes me feel better, but I still can't hang on.
I try some mantra's: Ohm mani pad hum ohm,Ohm mani pad hum ohm,Ohm mani pad hum ohm.
It doesn't work. I try to nostril breathe, still hysterical. Finally I see a green light way up high in the ceiling. It is blinking in some type of pattern. I concentrate on the blinking green. 12, 123, 123, 12 the pattern of the blinks. It reminds me of the Power Plant Tower lights outside my house. I used to watch them at night and follow their pattern. It was after my divorce during the "Bob" years (he died of pancreatic cancer). I was numb at the time and couldn't even manage to watch TV ( of course I didn't have a 65 inch high def to become addicted to).
SO I concentrate with all my might on the green light flashing away. The hysteria ratchets down a notch, Doug's hand slips away.
I calm down just in time to hear Darryl's eulogy, which makes me cry, but in a controlled sniffling into my tissue kind of way. I can't cry for Jenn the way I cried for myself minutes ago, or was I crying for Chris.....I glad he is not here to bury his sister, but I want him here for me. I don't want to be alone to handle this, I don't want my grief compounded, ripped open made raw and wet and bleeding again. I don't want to look in Darryl's eye and see the fear, hurt, sorrow and pain. I want to die, end it all. This is too much. I bury my face as I cry some more. When I lift my head up thinking that I can't suffer like this any more, I see the back of my mother in law, sitting up ahead of me. She has lost her husband, her son and now a daughter. How is she even standing? How is she even breathing. Oh sure she has more children left, but how is her hear beating? How can I complain compared to her sorrow?
Still the floor does not open up and take me away.
Finally after some incense some songs and a final prayer, we process out and make our way in the million mile car line to the cemetery. More prayers, but no hole in the ground. Thank God for that.