Weddings and funerals are emotional times. I seem to be having my fair share lately and my emotions are all over the place.
Losing both my parents so close together over the Christmas period was rather traumatic, I think I just went into automatic for a while.
My two brothers and I needed a bit of time to decide what we wanted to do with their ashes but it was decided their wedding anniversary would be the perfect date.
Unfortunately that wasn’t until September so there has been a good while in between.
Agreeing the date was easy enough but the location has been more difficult. I came up with a suggestion and put it forward. Neither brother seemed that interested and time went on. As the date came closer I asked them for suggestions. One brother was not happy with my idea as it was nearer to my home than his, but still could not suggest an alternative.
The date was fast approaching and arrangements needed to be made and family informed so I pre booked where I thought was a lovely peaceful place, told both brothers that it was booked but not set in stone, it could be changed but a decision needed making.
One brother said he was quite happy, in his eyes their ashes did not mean a lot to him and as long as they were together he did not mind where their last resting place was.
The other brother said I could do what I wanted, but he was finally in a good place and did not want to deal with all the upset again.
I should I guess mention that there is no great bond between any of us, the brother that did not want to attend had caused upset before both their funerals, the two brothers do not speak, I have been the person in-between. Neither did a great deal for my parents when they were alive. I was not surprised when he decided he would not be attending.
It did shock and upset me when he approached the undertaker to ask for some ashes as the whole point I thought had been reuniting them. But it was agreed he could have some.
So arrangements were made for Tuesday last week. But the weekend before I received a shocking rude message from the brother who was attending, partner. I can honestly say it really was unexpected, and totally shook me. She accused me of being manipulative and not listening to what my brother wanted and a lot of other things which totally floored me. I had constantly asked for both their ideas and thoughts.
You me might be wondering why I am writing about this on my blog about my life with an alcoholic son. One of the reasons I stated for wanting to lay my parents to rest where I suggested was I believe I will be at some point also laying Faith to rest and I would want him to be with his grandparents.
This was also brought up in the message, I was accused of using that to get my own way. Apparently my brother also wanted some ashes to do what he wanted with. He never ever mentioned that he had other ideas. I was so so upset. I cried all weekend. This was the brother I thought was happy with the arrangements. I might as well add Faith is drinking again and I think it just all became too much, I was sick of being the strong one, the one that got on and made the necessary arrangements, had to put a brave face on. I think it was the first time I had really cried, I cried because I wanted to talk to my mum, I wanted someone to tell me it would be OK. I replied to her message politely as I always do, asking her to get my brother to call as arrangements would need to be made quickly. (He wouldn’t answer my calls)
I eventually spoke to him Monday morning, I think he wanted to talk to me away from his partner. He played everything down, he was happy with the arrangements. I asked him if he wanted some ashes, he stated no, they should be together but I asked again, if he wanted some he had to say now. He eventually agreed he would like some, I personally think it was his partners wishes. So I called the undertaker again and asked for more ashes to be put aside.
At this point I was hoping there is not an after life, I would hate to think my parents were watching this.
I had to leave work early, I kept crying. Then that evening, the night before the internment I had the call saying Faith was missing, he was drinking, he had taken a Stanley knife, he was threatening to take his own life. He wouldn’t answer his phone.
This is when I handed him over to my higher power. I could deal with nothing more. My instincts told me he wasn’t ready to leave this world yet, I just had to pray and believe he would be OK.
I heard nothing, he was still missing the next day. I just had to put that aside and deal with the day. Which I did. I very nearly lost it when my brother turned up late and said his partner was not coming because her dog was sick. OK I think you might just get what was going through my head, how the hell I did not scream out loud that my son was missing but I was there I honestly don’t know. Well actually I do, it was respect for my parents and my two aunts that where there.
It wasn’t until later, after everything was done that I heard Faith was OK, the police had put him in a cell for his own safety. The reason all that happened is another ongoing story. Which I will share soon.
I started writing this because I have just returned from my best friends sons wedding. What a fantastic happy celebration. He has such a lovely family and a fantastic group of friends as has his beautiful wife. But I cried, I cried when I first saw him, I cried when I saw her, I cried when they said their vows, made their speeches, danced their first dance, and when I said goodbye to them. I think I bawled my way through their entire wedding, happy tears though.
This is bit of a shock to me, I don’t cry, or rarely, maybe it’s what I need to do. I know part of the reason I cried is knowing I will never have this celebration with my son.
I hope I haven’t rambled on too much, as I have said before, my blog is my outlet, maybe writing all this down will let me move on and stop these tears from falling.
I will update you on Faith soon.