Grief and Joy

I have a number of postings ready to go on the Blog, but somehow I can't see posting mundane, albeit, humorous musings just yet.

I still am trying to sort out my feelings after the death of my brother, I made a quick visit to see my brother before my daughter's wedding. My brother, Jack, expressed surprise that I would visit with the impending wedding. My response was that I just wanted to visit him and would come back after the wedding for a much longer visit. I don't know what made me make the trip to Chicago, a few days after driving 11 hours from the Outer Banks, and a few days before driving into Cleveland for the Friday wedding for my daughter. I was exhausted, but I am thankful and glad that I made that quick trip. It would be the last weekend that I would spend with my brother, who died while I was there.

It was difficult to leave Chicago and go back home. Conflicted with emotions, I knew I had to get things ready to go to Cleveland for the wedding. I felt closer to my brother in Chicago, Being in Chicago helped me to grieve with my niece, her husband, and all of my brother's friends. It helped to share and hear the stories that his friends and colleagues told. My niece, God bless her, said that she would hold the wake and funeral after the wedding. This made it easier for me to leave. I went home a bit less sad.

I went to my daughter's rehearsal dinner, wedding, reception and picnic. I was torn between grief and joy. I tried to smile and at times I was successful and other times I held back tears with down cast eyes. I was sitting in the Church where my daughter was being married. It was the same church where my brother and I grew up, where I made my First Communion and he was the altar server, who held the paten underneath my chin. It was the same church where we were confirmed and graduated. It was also the same church where I was married. I sat in the second pew with a lot of thoughts. Behind me were my ex and his wife. To say that wasn't hard would be a lie. My grief and joy got me through my daughter's ceremony. I honestly believe my brother was there, helping me though every moment of the ceremony and weekend. I think he was saying, "You can do it."

The wedding was beautiful as was my daughter. During the ceremony, my son leaned over and told me how beautiful his sister looked. I agreed, she just didn't look beautiful - she glowed. It felt strange to feel total joy at this moment and other moments throughout the weekend.

Two days later, I drove back to Chicago with two of my children. In another car, my newly married daughter and her husband would be traveling the same turnpikes to come to her uncle's wake and funeral, later in the day. Another car with three of my other children would arrive a little bit after I did. My oldest son and youngest son were driving to Chicago and stayed for three hours and drove home the same day. They couldn't get out of work.

The wake and funeral was the hardest thing that I ever had to face. My brother's death left me as the last surviving member of our small family. I won't be able to call him anymore, email him or visit him. Our trips together to Utica, (our home town), are a thing of the past as was our plan to go to Calabria, Italy, to visit the village of our grandparents. I will never hear Jack call me Mary Louise, or tell me what a great job I did raising nine children, or how good a writer I am.

Now I look back and hope that my daughter knows that I was there at her wedding, sometimes my mind drifted, but I was there and happy for her. She made a beautiful bride and I am so happy for her and her new husband, Al, who is my favorite and only son-in-law.

I am still grieving for my brother. The roller coaster ride of grief and joy are still there but each day it gets a little bit better. I know that in time, some day, I will see my brother again. Maybe when I am quiet, I will be able to feel his presence, and hear his voice saying, "Hi, Mary Louise...I love you, too."