My mum died on Monday after a horrible year dealing with cancer, its side effects, and the effects of treatment. Her final two weeks were spent in hospital, firstly expecting to get home, latterly realising she never would.
I haven’t cried yet. The odd few tears, but not the full on sobbing I anticipated. I have no doubt that will come.
This week has been a strange mixture of relief and frustration.
Relief that all of the things we were worrying about have gone: her physical discomfort and worsening condition; applying for a blue badge; getting the house ready for her to come home; sustaining driving an hour to the hospital every day; balancing caring with our jobs; worries for her for the future - all gone. A big burden lifted from our shoulders.
Frustration at the sheer amount of stuff in her house. Drawers and drawers full of paperwork dating back to the 1970s: payslips, tax letters, bills, bank statements, utility statements, etc. Literally looking for hours before we found the one remaining document we needed to release her will from the solicitor.
The horror of making choices for a funeral when we’ve never had to do that before. She has told us what she wanted, but not the colour of the material lining the coffin (for a cremation - we’ll never see it!), which type of container to put her ashes in, which colour of wood for the coffin (three of us had three different preferences), how many orders of service to have printed, etc. etc.
We have come away from this experience determined to have all our paperwork in one place and a funeral plan made and paid for, to save our own loved ones from having to deal with this! Also title deeds to our houses at home, not goodness knows where because the original lender changed hands three times since 1980 and moved premises.
I don’t know when the grief will hit. But at least I can let it come, knowing that the legal and formal stuff is done or in train!