Mother post II

Current mood: ill
Category: Life

Fuck. Having a much harder time today.

Listening to a Turkish CD of all woman singers from Istanbul early 1900s, given to me by Leah Callahan.

My mom never liked Turkish classical or folk music, 'cause she thought it sounded too mournful, which it does. But I like that sort of thing and really need it right now.

Without my mother to guide me through my heritage, I am clutching tightly to anything that reminds me of it - listening to the music and wearing my cartouche. Desperately.

Getting dangerously low on tissues.

I am sick again, to boot.

But I am still feeling so strong despite the pain. My mother didn't cry one tear when she was on her deathbed. She showed no fear.

I've been urgently compiling contact info for my Turkish relatives with success, I am happy to report. I have a newfound desire to reach out to them and make myself known.

We had a memorial service on Tuesday in Houston. People came from far and wide. Over 130+ people came. Many Turks, tennis and garden club friends.

Sadly, I was the only blood relative there. Türkiye is just too far, and her one uncle (and his American wife) in NYC could not make it for various reasons.

But I represented.

My father eulogized my mom nicely, and during so, he mentioned that I reminded him of her that day, and how she looked when they married.

I wore my big black frilly Sunday church hat, a black lace outfit that my mom had given me, and black heels. Apropos for mourning, and the hat hid my eyes pretty well during the service.

Before I came back to Boston, we went through some of her clothes, shoes, purses, and pounds upon pounds of cosmetics. The only thing I really wanted was her wedding dress. In a box with some dainty little hats she once wore, there were two little branches with fake flowers and pearls - props from her wedding ceremony according to my dad. These are things I would naturally incorporate in my own wedding if one day I am a bride.

I've also been clutching my mala. Tony's mom gave it to me. It has really helped me more than simple text on this page can express.

Throughout all this, I have met new people who have helped me and taught me things. I realized with all the preparations for the service and repast afterwards just how much help it takes to get such things done. I've always had a hard time asking for help...luckily my dad was offered a lot and knew he had to accept it in order for us all to honor my mother.

Two of his sisters, one cousin, and her baby all came to Houston. They comforted, helped, and supported my dad, and I was so thankful because I could not have done much without them.

One funny Southern note:
The day of the service, we arrived early at the VA chapel, by one hour. So to kill some time, the kind folks who drove us took us all to a real down-home seafood place where we got bacon-wrapped shrimp and sat oustide in the sun.

The entrance to the cemetery where the chapel had a stone sign that read "Lest Ye Forget".