so yesterday I buried my mom.

I still cannot believe the outpouring of support that was there both Wednesday and Thursday. The place was PACKED. It was a mob scene. I hugged so many people. It was so nice, everyone had a little story to tell about my mom. "Janet gave me my first job." or "Janet helped our school like no one else could". I couldn't believe all the amazing stories I heard. It was amazing and wonderful to hear. She would have been happy.

It didn't turn out to be such a sad event. People from her childhood, to school days, to teaching days, to coworkers, were all there reuniting and gathering about. It was actually a huge social event! I'm so happy with how things turned out... and she would have been happy too. My brother and I had a little section entitled "Mom's Favorite Things" there. We included Craisins, Pistachio muffins, trail mix, gum, life savers, almond cookies, sourdough pretzels - all the things she loved. People love to read me and my brother's letter to my mom as well. It was just a nice, touching, event that paid tribute to my wonderful mother.

Wednesday was a long day. My friends Julie, Jully, Jenny, Amy, Dave, Hiu, Pauline and Ron showed up. We hosted dinner afterwards. Jae's sister stayed. It was nice, but I was tired.

I expected Thursday to be an easier day. Usually, not many people show up since they go the day before and most people don't usually go to the burial anyway. But there was MAD people there! Wow! I wish I had brought food or snacks or something. At 1PM, it was time to head to the cemetery. My mom was brought out on the coffin. I couldn't look cuz I am pregnant (dont know why, my grandma told me not to look).... it was cold and rainy and windy. when we got the cemetery, i counted and we had 23 cars following. wow, that is unheard of. we also had 2 flower cars because she received so many flowers.

anyway, we got out of the cars and there were so many people there! all holding their umbrellas. i was so touched. anyway, they lowered her down (again, i wasn't able to look) and put the casket cover over and then we all had to drop down a rose and throw some dirt down. After that, it was done. All the planning, all the funeral arrangements were done. We hosted another lunch and then the day was over.

So now im left thinking, now what? What do i do with myself now? Just go on life as if nothing happened? How do I manage my grandparents? Will I really have to return to work after taking off an entire month?

So many open ended questions....I guess we'll see how the next months go. I need to get back into a routine again.

i'd like to share my letter to my mom with you all. it meant a lot to me to be able to share my feelings and to let everyone know what an amazing mother she was.

Dear Mom:

You always told me you loved to read my writing. You always told me I should have become a writer. I must admit, whenever things are going on, I do like to write my thoughts and feelings down. So here I am, writing my first letter to you.

Last week, we had to make your funeral arrangements. Funeral, bury, cemetary. These are not words I think about when I think of a 59 year old vibrant woman. I was at your cemetary plot, and as I was looking around at the headstones that would surround you, I saw birthdate years of 1915, 1923, even 1930's. But no one who was close to your age. You were so young and most importantly, young at heart. When you walked into a room, people knew you were there. You were happy, smiley, energetic. When I'd see you, you'd greet me with "Hey, girl!". You called me Jessie, sometimes Jess, but never Jessica, the name you used to dislike so much. You loved watching Criminal Minds, Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. Remember the time I signed us up for the mother-daughter show? Man, if they picked us, we would have won for sure! You loved to dance...you swore you were so cool. You loved the electric slide. You made me play it at my wedding, even though I adamantly disagreed. But you were right, people loved it! You were always right. You loved lemon icies, and foot massages. You loved all the dancing shows on TV. You only typed with Papyrus font, and signed all your cards "Love Always". You were generous, gracious, classy. You had a heart of gold, always thought about others before yourself. You were caring, loving, and truly inspirational. You were strong...boy, you were strong. You could handle anything. You let things roll off your shoulder like I've never seen before. You were smart and you made me laugh. Sometimes we would fight but that would never last more than an hour or so. My heart would ache when we fought because I could never be so far in mind from you for long. You'd get upset when we would go more than 2 days without an email or phone call together. You worried about me when no one did. You were the core of the family and you never had any drama around you. You were really something special and we will always remember.

One of my most vivid childhood memories of you is the day I was being bratty. To punish me, you told me "Time Out!". I ran to the sofa crying. I was sobbing and I looked up and there you were, minding your business, vacuuming the floor as if nothing happened. I remember this because, now, as an adult, I admire the authority you were able to unleash so effortlessly. You never hit me, not even one spank or swat. I can't remember you ever raising your voice at me. All I needed was "the look" to put me in my place. You didn't need to be mean, or harsh. We knew who the boss was. What an amazing mother you were. I remember you helping me learn how to add and subtract, using these brown building blocks. I remember all the time we spent as kids, over at our families homes on the weekends. I remember all the places you took me, all the times we played tennis together. Growing up, you made some killer tapioca dessert and linguini with white clam sauce (extra garlic). You made the secret Vincent's spaghetti sauce recipe we love so much, but never shared your recipe (I found it hidden in your books as I went through your stuff - score!). Sometimes I look up into the sky and hope to see some sort of sign. A flicker, a sudden burst of sun, something that lets me know you're there. But deep down I know no sign is needed. You will always be there, so deep within my heart. And I have so many things that let me know you're here with me. So many things to remember, so many good times. There's not enough space on this paper to write it all down, but I will remember.

Though today is your funeral, today is not the end. Your memory will live on in so many ways. Pictures, memories, fleeting thoughts. Some keepsakes I kept of yours - the clothes you last wore, inspirational books you loved, the last notes you wrote to me, including an "i love you" you wrote to me on your final day which I will frame, a gift I gave you before my wedding - a Lenox statue of a mother and daughter entitled "A Mother's Loving Touch". My children will know who you are. And though this is my first letter to you, it will not be the last. And each year when I write you your letter, I will laugh as I imagine you with your red pen marking every grammatical error and spelling mistake I make. That was you, always an educator, inside the classroom and in life. We will always remember.

I know in time, life will go on. But a small part of me will always be with you on your last day. A part of me will remember the touch of your hand as you squeezed mine, the sounds and the smell of the room. I will remember me putting my head in your lap as you rubbed my neck. I'm 31 years old and still, there is nothing like the comfort of your own mother. I look back and see myself so small and tiny against something so big that was happening. That piece of me will always be frozen in time, so that you can always be alive in my mind, when we were together, just you and me. That piece of me will always be there at the moment when I told you my last words and the promise I made to you. Don't forget that promise. Life will go on, the days and seasons will pass, but that one piece of my heart will always be stuck in the past. I will always remember.

I have to believe this happened for a reason. Somehow there was always a lesson behind everything you do. So I will assume this lesson to all of us is, to hold your kids a little tighter. To tell all the people around you you love them. To not want more, but to be happy with what you have. To seize the day, and smile and be thankful every morning we wake up and open our eyes. Your 2 famous lines to me were always "Family is everything" and "Life is short". Those two statements have never been more real than right at this moment. We will all remember.

I could go on about how young you were. About how sudden this was. I could mention how this seems so surreal. How I think you are just in the next room watching Judge Judy. How I don't know when reality will set in...or if it will ever set in. About how much of a shame it is for the world to have lost such a great and wonderful human being. But at the same time, I look at the outpouring of support you have. I hear and see the emotional reactions of people when they hear the news. I read the stories everyone has about you. I see what an impact you made on people by simply being who you are. And I think, "Mom, you had more than any 80, 90 or even 100 year old person could ever have. You have so very much." And I am at peace. And I hope you are too.

I'm trying to find words to end this. I miss you. I love you. All so insignificant. No words seem good enough and you just seem to deserve so much more. I just wanted to say how glad I was to be able to be there for you when you needed it the most. I will always value and cherish the times we got to spend together - I got to spend some good quality time with you and I am so grateful for that. You fought hard that last day. I watched you fight and I just wanted to say I am so proud of you. Proud of you on that day and proud of you for everything you have been able to accomplish in your life. I am truly honored to be your daughter and feel so lucky and blessed to have you (always) as my mom. You loved Kevin and I so much. You gave up everything for us. We will always remember.

I love you so very much, Mom. God, I miss you. And wherever you are, I hope you are doing the electric slide, while Watching Wheel of Fortune, cracking your gum with that awful noise I couldn't stand. I hope after you're done, you will practice your salsa moves and reward yourself with a lemon ice. Sit back and relax...it was a beautiful life, for a beautiful person.

Love always,
Jessie