Well, I'm home - in my pajamas, having just indulged in my idea of total comfort food (DH made me a grilled cheese sandwich), and I'm just going through some things here in the home office. Today was a long day ... a good day ... but so draining. The service was lovely; I was surprised at how many attended, especially since Grannie and Grandaddy have outlived many, if not most, of the friends in their circle - still, the chapel was full. The flowers were beautiful and the photos displayed of her at the front were so precious. My favorites were her high school graduation photo (today I wore the little gold bracelet she had received from her parents on graduating in 1934 that she wore in the photo - she was the first in her family to receive her diploma - as well as her jingly charm bracelet), and a portrait taken perhaps a year or two later in which she looked like a silver screen star. She was so beautiful. Of course, I always just knew her as "my Grannie", so it's fascinating for me to consider what her life must have been like as a young woman. It was sweet today to hear stories of what she was once like. How, for instance, she showed herself to be a thoughtful sister when she got up early one Sunday morning before church and polished her sister's shoes, so their mama wouldn't find out that the sister had been out dancing the night before. She looked out for others, always. It was good to see family and friends, both old and new. It was a delight to hold my 8-month old second cousin and watch his brown eyes dance as he took in all the activity around him. It was bittersweet to hold the hand of my Grandaddy. I know it won't be too long before we're repeating this whole process for him. ::sigh:: The readings and sharing of memories during the service, both my own and the parts of other family members, went beautifully. Of course we were emotional. And it was ok. It was an emotional time, so perfectly fine. I think Grannie would have been pleased. I hope that somehow, somewhere, she was able to know that we were there today, honoring her life. Again, I cannot thank you all enough for the outpouring of love and support that you've given me here. It means more to me than I can possibly even express. You are very special people indeed.

Vickey, You have my sympathies on the loss of your mother. I think you'll find that you'll experience a wide variety of emotions during your period of grief. It's difficult to predict what they might be, how long they last or how intense they might be. Just be assured that most are within the realm of what is considered "normal". Lack of concentration is something I had to deal with after my Dad died. In my case it was primarily because I felt that mundane tasks were unimportant and I couldn't muster the will or the ambition to care much about them for some time. Eventually it passes. As far as feeling down "for no real reason", you will experience more of that. You may not think you have a reason, but just the absence of your Mom in your life and the void that leaves behind is enough reason to feel down. These feelings will come and go, without warning, and will vary in intensity. It's been 6 months since Dad died and I still have those days. Some will probably tell you that they still experience them years later. Don't worry about feeling down for no reason, just don't let it get the best of you. As for the whole jewelery thing, that's a tough one. I can certainly understand your feelings of resentment and anger. They are justified. By your description, your SIL's acted very inappropriately. Discuss it with your siblings to make sure your Mom didn't make any arrangements to dispose of these things that maybe you weren't aware of. Beyond that, I guess it depends on how strongly you feel about their actions. Confrontation at this time, over such issues can divide a family for a long time, but then again, keeping your anger and resentment inside isn't healthy either. Hopefully someone else will have good advice for you on how to deal with that. Good luck and may God's peace be with you.

I am glad I found this site, to see that others feel the same as I do. I lost my mother last week, she passed away Feb 27, 2013 at the age of 65. My mother was my soul mate, she was my best friend and recently she felt like a daughter. I miss the sparkle in her eyes. She had been ill for about 8 years, on and off, and each time she seemed to get better. She always had such a great attitude and sense of humor. I thought she would get better this time too. I was her caretaker, along with my father for the last 2 years. Before that I worked with her and saw her every day. I have seen her or talked to her every day of my life. I am only 30 years old and I always thought I would have her around for another 20. I still feel like a child, and without her I feel lost. I don't have children yet, and I know that when I do it will be bitter-sweet because she is not here. The pain I feel is very intense and I am exhausted, I have only begun grieving and I wonder when it will end (but I see now that it never will). I am not sure what to make of all these strange feelings. A week before she passed away, angels came to me and told me that she would feel better by the end of the following week. Even though my interpretation was wrong, they were right, she does feel better. Since her passing she has been talking to me and that is a huge comfort, she tells me she is happy and that she will always be by my side. She tells me she is excited to meet her grandchildren. She has been telling me not to wait to live my life anymore, to have fun. She also said to think of her transition as a long vacation, we will see each other again when my flight lands. My story is so similar to all the others I have read, so I am sure your mothers are by your sides helping and guiding you through your lives. Talk to your mothers because they hear you and the love they feel for you is pure.

you know, since you posted about losing max, i have gone over in my mind some of the things that set me off in the weeks/months after gary's death. he suffered the ravages of cancer for 21 months before God took him home. during that whole time, he practically lived on gatorade. i bought gallons of that stuff! a couple of weeks after he died, i was in walmart. i started down the drink isle and came face to face with shelf after shelf of gatorade. i burst into tears and sobbed like a baby. people were walking waaaay around me, LOL! i left a full cart right there in the isle, went out and sat in my truck to pull myself together. it was 30 minutes before i could go back in there and get the toilet paper i desperately needed! :O fast forward a couple of months...i was in a hallmark store looking for the perfect card to send to an acquaintance who had just lost her husband. found what i was looking for and standing in the checkout line, all of a sudden the music i had paid no attention to blasted into my ear..."last dance", a song that gary used to play on the piano for me almost every day. again...tears, sobs, strange looks. after a few more of these occurrences, it finally dawned on me that (please don't think i'm crazy!) they were signs from gary. the first couple of years or so after his death, i had many. they were pretty unmistakable. just a few weeks before he died, gary told me that after he was gone and when i saw a rainbow, it meant he was thinking about me. but, if i saw a DOUBLE rainbow, that meant that he had stopped whatever he was doing and he was thinking ONLY of me. i can't even begin to tell you how many rainbows i have seen, oftentimes they were doubles. :) pennies from heaven, i have a little basket sitting next to ashley's urn where i have tossed countless pennies from heaven. look for signs from max, you will surely see them. when i lost my female corgi (gary's dog, we always said, within a year of his death), the very next day i saw a rainbow. my sign that she was with him. five months later, when i lost my little male corgi, i was out walking the danes the evening after simon left me. on our way back through the fields and up to the house, i heard in the distance the UNMISTAKABLE bark that was simon. just his way of letting me know he was all better. at first, the signs made me profoundly sad because they made me think of all that i had lost. but over time, i have come to cherish each one of them. they are few and far between now, i suppose because i don't need them as much as i did back then. max will undoubtedly let you know he is well and waiting for you. some day, no doubt in my mind, we will all be reunited. :) well, it appears i have once again written the great american novel! LOL