And that's over

 Today was M.'s memorial service. (Actual *funerals* seem to be a lot less common now - I differentiate them with 'funerals are where the casket is present, memorial services is where it's just remembering the person.' Though I'm not sure where I'd place services with urns present - which was like my father's service, but I still think of that as a memorial service because it was four months after he died)

The first part of the day wasn't so bad - we were feeding the extended family (about 30 people) and there was a lot to do and the little "core" of the CWF was there in the kitchen, cutting things and plating up things and generally making stuff ready, and as I've said before, in situations like that, if I can be "useful," I can mostly push my own feelings into the background and not be as sad. 

I did lots of things. I had made the onion rice ahead of time (It's not something I would make for myself, ever, partly because it's way too salty - contains a whole can of French Onion Soup - but also I just don't care for things that are that oniony, but it's what I was asked to do). I filled glasses with ice and set them in the upright freezer to stay cold until lunchtime. I ran down and unlocked the sound room (I knew where the key was; I cleaned up the room last Saturday) for the speaker, I carried stuff out to the table.

I did get a little lunch - a couple slices of the ham (which I otherwise never eat) and some green beans and a bit of potato casserole (we have a set menu we make, which makes things easier).

As I think I've said before, I think the funeral lunch serves an important role. I've been the recipient of two so far - the first, after my maternal grandmother died, being served chicken and dumplings in the fellowship hall of an old-school Congregationalist church in Michigan. (I'm sure there were other things, there was probably a gelatin salad, that would be expected, and probably cake or pie for dessert, I only remember the chicken dish) and then, more recently - pulled pork and potato salad and pie at my dad's memorial service. I think these are important for family (Well, we opened my dad's up to any attendees who wanted to eat, there was a lot of food) because it allows people who *might* have traveled from far away to talk with other family in a quieter setting than your average restaurant. But, also, it removes one of the frustrations/sources of stress: being in public while bereaved. Especially if you are in an unfamiliar part of the country - the after-funeral lunch means you don't have to try to find a restaurant that can accommodate your group (or dietary concerns - there was something like tabbouleh at my dad's memorial service because my mom put in a quiet word that part of the family was vegetarian, so there were sure to be foods they could eat). It also removes the concern about choosing off a menu, it takes that one choice off your mind. (And yes, sometimes when you're bereaved, especially when you've undergone the stress of traveling and being in an unfamiliar place, it's nice to just have food put in front of you rather than having to look at a menu and figure it out). 

I think it's also important for the people serving. As I've said before: it's one last consideration you can provide for the person who died, feeding their family. And it is a service to the family, as I said before. And also - if the deceased was a friend of yours, it does, oddly, help with "closure" - you are doing something, it is at least momentarily useful, and it does help defuse the grief for a bit.

Today was hard, though. As I said to someone else, it was *almost* as hard as my dad's memorial service. Part of it was M. was "always there," she was such a big part of the church, such a force in it - and if it had been anyone but her? She'd have been in the kitchen, slicing the ham, setting out devilled eggs (she *always* made devilled eggs), and generally directing everyone else so things ran smoothly. So the absence was very obvious. 

I think it was also hard because she and her husband - who predeceased her by about six months - were the people who first welcomed me here, who gave me a tour of the church. 

And she was also a deeply kind person. I think I mentioned before how I had once mentioned offhand to her about my celery allergy, and then, months and months later, when there was some CWF dinner for which she had prepared that hot chicken salad (some of you will know the one - chicken and lemon juice and mayonnaise and almonds and celery), and she remembered and made a small, separate portion for me without the celery. Another person might have forgotten, or might have shrugged and gone "she can make up a meal from the side dishes," but not M. (I think, perhaps, also in a way, she reminded me a bit of my own mother, which may be why I got such a frisson during the memorial service - the realization that most likely, some day, I will have to be the one - along with my brother and his family - to plan one of these, and to once again be the family sitting up in the front of the church)

Also, as someone I knew slightly (she had been in PEO with M., and was retired from my university) commented - "You've had *so many* deaths in this church recently!" and yes, yes we have - seven, I think, since 2018? And I've lost a number of other people in recent years and that's just *hard.*

It makes me wonder a little: who will be left to mourn me when it's my time? Not that it should matter; but the thought of going unmourned makes me a little sad. 

After the memorial, there was a reception (put on by her PEO chapter); I didn't stay long because I was tired - it's been wicked hot here and I find I don't sleep well, even with air conditioning, when it's this hot, and I was just worn out.