Funeral Services and the ramblings of a mourning child at 3 a.m.

I was quite surprised how much healing occured from the funeral services and celebration of life reception for my Momitas.
My mom's brother, Bob, spoke about their childhood and her influence on him.
My father spoke of her brilliant smile, unbreakable spirit and vitality.
I spoke of the spirit of Heavenly Father and how obvious it truly is in this world and how grateful I am that I will be reunited with my mom and her mind will be whole again.
My sister brought levity to the service, counting many of my mom's quirky ways. making the entire congretation laugh and cry and summing up how much my mom was loved.

There were over 200 people in attendance. Everyone shared stories about my mom, how she always cared, always gave, always called to check in on her friends, and was so active in her ward. Those stories warmed our hearts.

My talk included this poem. Reading it does not convey the emotion behind it like hearing me read it aloud, but I hope it can do some justice to the beautiful memories my mom has left us with.

Evidence
If it is evidence of God you seek
Just look upon my mothers smile
If it it proof of Jesus Christ you need
In a world where pain trembles deep
Hold my mother for a while.
If a vision of an angel in light and glory
Could provide you a testimony of the Savior’s story
Simply spend a moment in my mothers care
For there is no greater witness bared
If the endless sky and silver moon
And yellow stars upon a black cocoon
Give you no wisdom of salvation’s truth
Let my mother be a friend to you
For if it is evidence you truly need
Of the Saviors love in word and deed
As you bow below him on your failing knees
I can tell you of no other woman who gave me ease
And as I let her spirit leave
With Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to be
All I ask is that you really see
For the evidence is within your reach
Give your comfort to those suffering
Cloth the naked and the hungry feed
For these are the things my mother taught to me.
If it is evidence of God you seek.
Kelly Curiel
December 31, 2008
5:48 a.m.

I still cannot believe this is real. I expect my mom to come in my room now and ask me why I am up. I am staying here in AZ with my sister for one more week. Raul flew home today and will fly back next Friday so we can drive my mom's car home with the things I want to keep.

Going home will be so hard. I spoke with my mom daily, she was part of my imperative support system, I am now a table standing on less than the needed legs and I am off balance. I am not sure how hard I will fall, but due to my previous life experiences and extreme emotional reactions I am very afraid. Going back to Mobile, where my only family is Raul, my only friends are surface aquaintances, and a void eating away at every part of me. How do people survive this pain? How does this happen to just about everyone and they keep living, keep going forward. One minute I feel like I am under an all encompassing injection of novacain and the next minute I am writhing in hot, teary pain, trying to find the air I need to inflate my lungs while crushed under a thousand pounds of searing recognition. I will not see my mom again in this life. My grandchildren will not bounce on her lap, her smile will not radiate in a room again, we will not embrace, she will not call, I will not call her Momitas and hear her voice delighted by this nickname. It is over for this life.

It is a blinding pain. And then the numbness reconciles. I forget, and deny. There is no mental awareness of this process, it just occurs.

Everything that happened, everything I was feeling before this happened seems so insignificant now. My pain, my yearnings, how insipid. How silly.