Mum left explicit lists of instructions on who was to get what and now we can't fulfil those wishes because things have gone missing and other things have gone missing that should have stayed with Dad in the house until he passes on.
We are still trying to work out all the things stolen, but so far, clothing, sewing patterns, a vase, money in named money boxes for Mum's grandchildren, Mum's parents photos in frames, a coin collection for one of the Grandsons and loads of jewellery that Mum had specifically listed for each of her Children and Grandchildren.
We were all practically living at the hospital for 6 weeks before Mum passed away we just thought we were all going slightly round the bend with stress and tiredness and thats why we weren't able to find things like Mums big heavy vase that had always been in the same place in dining room.
There was an out of town family member who stayed in the house but left just before Mum died.
The day after she left, was when we noticed some of the things missing.
Then another family member arrived and we began to notice more and more things going missing until she left. Things from Mum's lists, things Dad needs, things that we knew had been there days before and other things that we had put in specific places for other people who hadn't arrived yet. My cousins baby had her clothing taken, it was there the night before and gone the next day when this family member went home.
It still makes me sick inside.
Then there were the family arguments between my aunt, my sister and my cousin. They decided to air their laundry in front of everyone and tried to make all of us take sides. the day before my Mum's funeral, they screamed at each other - I was dumbstruck and shell shocked! I really still am at a loss to understand, why now!!? why right this moment when I can barely breathe or dress or function, and my mum is gone. Seeing them do that stole the last sap of strength I had left and it was only the day before Mum's funeral, I still had the hardest day in front of me.
I was like a zombie, walking, talking doing, but barely there, but noone much noticed, they were too busy arguing and stealing and complaining and stabbing each other in the back, and demanding we cook them all home cooked dinners, when all we could barely manage to swallow ourselves were sandwiches. Everything tasted like sand. While they argued, or sat back, relaxed, talked, laughed, drunk booze, slept in and watched TV, they gave me more and more things to do, organise, look after, plan, fix up and run around after on top of the funeral arrangements. More and more stuff! I could barely drag myself out of bed and dress myself, but I did. I was a zombie. I felt like I was literally walking around with boggy mud in my brain. It didn't stop, not for the funeral, not when I returned to work the next week, not when most of the family went home, not for the school holidays.
It didn't stop, not until we went camping. Then everything began to change.
The rain cleansed the earth and removed the mud from my brain, the quiet started to heal me inside and the good people we camped with showed me what it was like to be normal again. I wasn't quite there yet, but at least I had felt glimpses of what it was in the laughter and the quiet.
Yesterday I cleaned the house a bit, did some washing, sewed a lot and listened to a 3 mth backlog of podcasts.
Yesterday was so ordinary.
Yesterday everything was the same on the outside, but yesterday everything changed on the inside.
I felt normal.