Attending my first funeral after my mom's.

Today, I attended a funeral – the first funeral since my mom’s.

I was dreading it. I mean, nobody looks forward to attending any funeral (especially not on a Saturday morning), but I didn’t know how it would affect me, what types of feelings it would stir up.

On the way there, I began crying, thinking about my mom’s visitation. I so badly wish I could talk to her about who showed up, how many people loved her – there were some people I didn’t even know, customers from the bank, owners of her favorite local deli.

I started wiping my tears away, telling myself to get it together. But then I had a realization. I didn’t have to get it together.

Nobody at a funeral would be asking any questions about my puffy eyes or sudden outbursts.

Funerals, it seems, are the only place where grief is actively welcomed.

I thought back to the day my mom died. A few hours after I got the news, I decided to walk over to Polly’s Freeze (the local ice cream shop). Why? I don’t know really know. I couldn’t even stomach the idea of eating.

I ordered a root beer.

I think I wanted to prove to myself that I was still a human, that the Universe was still spinning, even though my world had stopped. My world would never be the same. I knew that. But at the very least, I could order a root beer. I could be in control of something.

I remember wishing I was wearing a shirt that said, “My mom just died. Please be gentle with me.”

Honestly, I wish I could wear that shirt every day.

Fast forward to today.

I didn’t have to wear any identifying element to communicate to others that I was grieving. It was just accepted, even encouraged. My grief was so camouflaged amongst a sea of others’ grief, they didn’t even know I wasn’t crying for their loss. I was crying for my own.

Hell, I might start crashing funerals, so I can grieve openly and with others – without them feeling awkward or bad for me.  

For the first time in a long time, I felt less alone. The world isn't built for grievers, but funerals are.