Swallowed by grief

It is 2:39 AM. We just finished the photograph memory boards for the wake tomorrow. We started off as my sister and I. Then a fight and we became just me. Then finally we became Melissa, Richard and I. A fight that opened the gates of hell for a brief moment. A fight about food at the luncheon after the funeral on Friday. My sister wanted to have the hotdish. I voted for the cold meat sandwiches. Not that I would eat either, but I figured that people would have more of a selection with the sandwiches. After the fact, everything agreed on my sister turns on me. She says it should have been the hotdish. She says that mom hated sandwiches at any function, she thought it was tacky. My sister is right. I am wrong. Dead wrong. Stupid me. Of course my mom would have rather had the hotdish. The ball dropped. My sister says it is because I always need to be right and that I just do what I want to do anyways so forget it…she is going to bed. I can do the memory boards myself. I don’t want to do the memory boards myself. Looking at all those pictures of a happier time. A time when mom was alive verses now…now a time of sorrow and her death. I don’t want to see the pictures. It hurts too much.
I think that if she doesn't come back I will never forgive her for what she is doing to me. Don't make me do this alone. Don't leave me alone with the past. I cry. I cry. I cry a lot more. I am hysterical. But, I keep working on the memory boards. The pictures are getting a little crooked because I honestly can’t see, my eyes are getting swollen. My brother-in-law comes out to check on me. I can’t even talk I am crying so hard. He leaves…nothing he can do. He can’t bring mom back…so what is the point. After a little bit my sister returns. I keep working on the boards. They need to be done. The wake cannot take place without them…or so I think. I am nearing breakdown. This time my arms actually went numb and I started to hyperventilate. It scares me. I can hardly hold the pictures because it physically hurts too bad. Melissa keeps saying it is ok and that I am getting too worked up about the fight we had. It is not all about the fight we had. It is everything. Finally through the tears I scream out…fear, rage, pain…I scream out that I cannot see mom in a casket tomorrow. I am not that strong. As I type this the tears start again. Clearly it is not physically possible to run out of tears. Soon I will go to bed, wake up and see my mom lying in a casket. It makes me sick. It makes my heart bleed. It makes my brain go berserk. I am beginning to understand now when they say that grief kills. I believe it. Tonight I actually said I wish I was dead. I really don’t want to be dead. But when the sorrow hits, it is too much to bear. Grief knows no end, no limit, no warning. It creeps up on you and consumes you forever. I am starting to fear it. It sweeps over me at the most random times and is so powerful and so devastating that I lose myself. Grief. Finally the photo boards are done. I am exhausted, Melissa and Richard exhausted, but they are done. The wake can continue as scheduled. There will be photos there tomorrow. It is true…grief does strange things to people. You are not in your right mind. A fight about hotdish. A fight about so much more. So much that needs to be expressed but no way to start. God help us all.