On July 7th, we lost my grandmother, Ma, my dad’s mom. She passed somewhat suddenly. She was in poor health, but she wasn’t in a near-death position as at least I typically think, in the hospital, on hospice, on a ventilator, etc. She had a stroke one day and passed the next.
My grandmother lived in St. Louis, MO. At the time of her passing, I was in North Carolina, my dad was in Alabama, and my brother was actually driving through Tennessee on his way to visit my dad in Alabama. Most of my extended family lives in or relatively close to St. Louis with a few others living a few hours away.
She passed on a Tuesday. My grandfather, Pa, needed closure so my family pushed on with the funeral which was on Friday, July 10th. My dad had been asked to speak and I had been asked to sing at the funeral.
Given the circumstances, my dad, brother, and I were unable to attend my grandmother’s funeral.
I am so thankful that my brother was already on his way down to Alabama, so so thankful. I cried over my grandmother’s death. But I cried more over the fact that I couldn’t be there for my dad. I cried more because I couldn’t be there with my extended family who I knew was hurting and grieving.
I guess I’m thankful for how advanced we are in technology because my family was able to put the funeral on Facebook Live so that my dad, my brother, myself, and others could watch the funeral without being there. I’m thankful that my uncle was able to read a writing on behalf of my dad. I’m thankful that I could send the song my grandmother wanted and have it played at the funeral.
But did you read that? We watched the funeral on Facebook Live. FACEBOOK LIVE. We said good-bye and celebrated and grieved the life of my grandmother, my dad’s mother, on FACEBOOK FLIPPING LIVE.
I’m sure I’ll have people say and ask.. well why didn’t you just go? You could be safe, why didn’t you go and stay socially distanced and wear a mask? You should’ve been there. But multiple people from that funeral have tested positive for COVID and I’m so glad that we didn’t go. But I shouldn’t be glad. Not going shouldn’t have been the better and safer option for her family.
I sat on the porch of my mom’s house, by myself, and watched my grandmother’s funeral on a live stream.
To this day, I still haven’t hugged my dad. Or my aunts. Or my cousins. I haven’t been held. I’ve listened to my loved ones cry over the phone. I haven’t grieved, you know? I haven’t been able to sit in a room with everyone and laugh and cry as we talk about memories. I haven’t been able to wrap my arms around my family who is feeling the weight of the loss of our loved one. I haven’t been able to sit with my grandfather as he wraps his mind around his new life. I have not been able to grieve fully.
My dad wasn’t able to be at his mom’s funeral. He wasn’t able to be there for his dad or his sisters. He wasn’t able to be there to support his family. He wasn’t able to say good-bye. He wasn’t able to hug his nieces and nephews.
I hope and pray that one that we will be able to do these things. Maybe even more so, I hope and pray that the time between now and then, we can each find a garment of comfort and peace. But the thing that I hope and pray the most about?
I hope and pray that the families of the 138,767 individuals and counting who have passed from the coronavirus, and the families of those who have lost their lives for other reasons during this time, find a fragment of comfort and peace.
To those families and loved ones, my heart goes out to you. And I understand your frustration and anger. Had we handled the coronavirus as many other nations, we wouldn’t be here still today. Had we had federal laws and regulations such as wearing a mask from the beginning, we wouldn’t be here. So I’m angry too.
Because no one should have to grieve from a distance over something as simple as wearing a mask.