We've been unsuccessful in persuading Mom to come stay with us for part of the week in Parlin though she has agreed to the weekends.  I think.  

Al & I head back to work this week.  I worry constantly about Mom being alone too much.  At least, I have work to keep me busy.  

We visited with Mom this evening after attending a family christening (Al's side).  We asked Mom once again if she'd like to spend the night or perhaps the next few days in Parlin.  She declined and said, "Sheelagh, it's normal for me to grieve."  

"I'm grieving too, Mom," I responded.  "And I worry about you.  I don't want you to be alone too much."  At least, not right away.  

Mom says she can't leave Dad alone in the house because he'll have no one to keep him company.  (His urn, which contains his ashes, sits prominently next to his photo in the livingroom.)  She has many things to do in the house, she says.

Mom shares that she couldn't sleep last night, so she waited for Dad to come and visit her. But he never showed up. 

This is where it would be helpful to have more siblings.

Am working on Mom to consider the idea of exploring a bereavement group.  She's a little resistant right now.  But I'll keep trying.  Going to church every morning seems to be working for her.  

I have been overwhelmed by the tremendous support we've received from family and friends. In addition, we've received so many thoughtful notes from current colleagues as well as co-workers from my former life at NYU.  Thank you so much to everyone for your thoughts, prayers, condolences & love.  

That we have received such encouragement from everyone makes me so grateful that I am my father's (& mother's too) daughter, that he had so much to do with the woman I've become.  Makes me wonder how children are 'born to' their parents, how any child connects with a parent.  

As I witnessed half a dozen babies being christened today, I was saddened by the thought that my Dad will never physically be there to share in our future daughter's or son's birth . . . How St. Thomas the Apostle was the same church that I attended Tito Frank Ramirez's (Dad's good friend) funeral this past May . . . How I could experience both life & death (eternal life, so the Catholics teach us) in the same location . . . 

To blessings.