Calling Hours for Joe

Everyone has experienced the pain of losing a loved one. It's never easy, but most of the time during the calling hours is a blur. There are some sharp clear memories and some things I can't remember at all. But, the feeling of caring is still a vivid memory.

I remember how many people showed up. I remember a few who were missing. Some told me later they didn't see the paper in time. Others surprised me with their presence. I've been to calling hours in this county where a line forms and the family is forced to stand in one location. People move in and out and leave. I hate those. Our area never did that. You mingled. You could slip away briefly. You could drift from group to group or you could let them come to you. That way seems so much better to me. People can stay or leave quickly. Our extended family stayed with us the whole time.

Once again W was not with me. He told me that TK was too young to be expected to stay through the whole thing. I wanted TK to experience the rest of his family. I gave up though and didn't even try to argue. I just made the trip alone. It put me in the awkward position of explaining where my husband was to all those people who asked. That I remember clearly.

It went pretty well. There was the necessity of clearing the room once though. It was done quietly with no fuss. The Directors quietly told a few people to spread the word and people were ushering each other out of the room quietly. If there was any confusion, everyone was too polite to make a scene. I heard some quiet questions and quietly the word spread that Joe's mouth had dropped open. The important thing was that Mom was spared any real upset. She did pretty well. Everyone knew of her M.S. and I've always been proud of how my Fathers family sticks together. We've always been close and enjoy each others company. At times like that, it's a real comfort. It was the first time in days that I felt it was a normal situation. A celebration of a much loved man without a new shock every moment. Calling hours are a time to realize you aren't alone. It's a very important first stage toward healing. Just to see how many people really care.

But, the next morning, W let me down again. He told me he didn't want to be up there all day. He said to go ahead if I wanted to stay that long, and he'd follow with TK in time for the Funeral. When he arrived, just in time, he had Grandma Chief with him. I was glad to see her, but surprised W had brought my ex-hubby's Mother with him. Till I realized it gave him an excuse to drive to the Funeral Home, and not ride with us. He was going to avoid the tears and pain at any cost. My parents never said a word. Mom just clung to me. Or, was I clinging to her?