Wading through funeral arrangements

Two weeks later the medical examiner finally released my mother's body. Two weeks of limbo, not really knowing any details of the accident, and not being able to access her body to bathe it. I had visions of extensive decomposition by the time I was able to get to her--I can handle a lot, but if she were decomposed enough to have skin slippage, I don't think I could have handled it. I'm still quite bitter towards the hospital for refusing to let me bathe her at the time of her death--it would have given me a closure and a sense of a smoother passage for her.

At any rate, last Friday I drove to Boston to the funeral home to prepare her for cremation. I ended up having to go alone, since neither of the nurses I had asked were able to make it that day, but it was alright because I was really feeling a sense of urgency about needing to get her ready.

I arrived at noon, and after completing quite a bit of paperwork, was escorted back to the embalming room--there she was, on the embalming table. She looked pretty rough, with a largely shaved head, the huge inscision in her scalp from the neurosurgery, and all the tubes still in place, intercranial pressure monitor and all. One eye was slightly open--that was hard to take. I lit some nag champa incense, said the prayers I needed to, and steeled myself to prepare her body. While it was rough emotionally, it felt good to be finally getting the work done, knowing that she was now properly prepared for cremation. I removed the dressings, the IV, the foley, in short, most the medical devices that had been left in her body, although I left the casts in place on her legs. I bathed her from head to toe, getting her as clean as possible, using a special soap made with goat's milk and herbs. I then lotioned her with a goat's milk and honey lotion and dressed her in a sari I had made days before. When I was finished, I felt much better, and she looked significantly better. I finished with a few words to her, wishing her a safe and speedy journey, and hoping she found peace, happiness, and joy in her next incarnation. I sincerely hope she does, because she had precious little of those in this lifetime.

Now she will be cremated, and I will keep her ashes until next summer when we can climb a mountain and spread her ashes on a clear sunny day--freeing her to soar on the wind, on the breath of the goddess, in a place of peace and beauty. I think she would have liked that.