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Funeral Arrangements and Decision About My Show

Yesterday was a terrible day; mom succumbed to the Cerebral Hemorrhage she suffered on Friday.  

The friends whom mom called to come over on Friday night -- because she wasn't feeling right and was scared -- and who ultimately were the ones who found her laying face down on the bathroom floor, came over to spend time with me and my son. We ate.  We talked.  We shared memories.   It was such a welcome change from the stress and horror of what took place over the past couple days.

They left around 8:30.   My son had to leave as well because he had work in the morning.  He departed around 9:00 and then it was just . . . me.   Me and an empty house. 

A house that, just days before, had been filled by my mom.  Lovingly taken care of.  Clean. Neat.

 Earlier on Sunday my son and I went to the local store so I could grab a pack of t-shirts, a pack of boxer shorts, and some socks.  When we ran out of the house for the emergency on Friday night, we didn't take anything with us.  No clothes.  No deodorant.  I knew I would need clothes while I washed what I was wearing.

So, after everyone left and I was standing there all alone, I realized that I hadn't showered since Thursday night and frankly, I stunk. 

I stripped off my clothes and went to put them in the washer.   The last load of clothes my mom did was still in there, so I had to put them in the dryer.  I put my stuff in and started the washer.

I grabbed a clean t-shirt and boxer shorts and headed to the shower.  I took a LONG, hot shower.   I felt so grungy.  I hadn't even been aware of how tense my whole body was until the hot water started making my muscles relax.  It felt good.

I finished up and got out, dried off, put on the new underwear and came out to the empty house.   

Before me was everything that was my mom's existence.  Her whole life surrounded me; the furniture she chose, the rugs, the dishes, the little pictures in frames on the walls.  All family memories that were important to her . . . and I realized, to me too.  But, no more mom.  POW. Water works again.  I cried so profoundly it hurt.

I was really tired and emotionally worn out, so I headed to bed.  But sleep, again, would not come.

I guess around 11:30 I called my son to see if he had gotten home yet.  He was on Route 3, but Lincoln Tunnel traffic was backed up 3 miles, so he was inching his way to our exit ramp.  He got there about twenty minutes later and called back to tell me he was finally home.

Laying there, just me, all alone, I noticed how quiet it is up here.   No noise.  At all.   No sirens from police cars, ambulances, or fire trucks as is so often heard by my house in densely populated northeastern New Jersey.  No helicopters or planes above.  No "thumpa-thunpa" music blaring from cars as they pass the house.   Just respectable peace and quiet.

I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up around 7:00 this morning there were things to do.

Call the banks to lock my mom's meager accounts and shut off debit cards so no one can pull a fast one and grab anything.

Have a Burglar/Fire Alarm re-installed at the house.

Confirm the funeral arrangements and the Obituary contents for the local weekly newspaper.

Lots of other stuff . . . 

 

My mom's viewing will be as follows:

Sunday, November 28, 2021   from 4:00-7:00 PM

SHELDON KUKUCHKA FUNERAL HOME

73 W Tioga St.

Tunkhannock, PA 18657

 

Catholic Funeral Mass as follows:

Monday, November 29, 2021

Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary Church

99 E Tioga St.

Tunkhannock, PA 18657

 

I will do my radio show tonight, from Pennsylvania.

 

 

 

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