The Funeral

Photo by: Tim Bindner

Internal struggle has always been a major factor in my life. It was tested this week.

My father’s last living sister passed away on Tuesday morning. She lived a good long life and reached the age of 91. She also has been married to my uncle for 75 years. My uncle is in his mid-nineties.

I found out that the visitation for my aunt was Friday from 12pm to 8pm and the mass was at 10am on Saturday followed by the funeral. I rearranged a doctor’s appointment and planned to get off work at 1pm then head to the visitation.

As the week slowly progressed, my anxiety built. My father’s anniversary of his death is quickly approaching and the thought of attending a visitation weighed on me. It is well documented my many visits to funeral homes as a child and even as a young adult. Heck, my mother and father seemed to enjoy visits to the funeral homes for all the people they knew. I didn’t share the same passion.

Thursday night, I tossed and turned. My heart raced (scary after having a heart attack a few weeks ago) and the nausea and fear of vomiting were intense. I also had my mother’s voice in my head. She was telling me what I should do and laying on the guilt as I internally wrestled with the decision not to go. Around 4am I made my mind up that I was not attending the visitation, and my heart stopped racing, the nausea subsided and I fell asleep (for 2 hours).

Friday morning, I woke up, told Marcie of my decision, and reached out to my psychologists to see if I could get in to see her that day. She could work me in. Throughout the day, my mother’s voice echoed in my head. The guilt was powerful, and my internal struggle with being selfish and perceived as a jerk weighed heavily on me. I reached out to a cousin and told her my plans not to attend and she agreed it was okay not going and that I needed to take care of myself. I met with Dr. Erin later, who also told me that same message that I needed to take care of myself and that each of us grieve differently. Visitations are for the family, not the person who passed she described. All of this was a lot of comfort, but I still battled the guilt.

I mentioned in earlier blogs how my mother compared me to people, but not in a good way. She would brag on classmates, friends of mine and even my cousins, some of whom I would face at this visitation. I could not handle that. I felt like a dog who had been beaten as a puppy. Though I found peace and love later, that fear is always there.

Friday night I went through the same anxiety as Thursday night and eventually decided that I was skipping the mass and funeral today. I reached out again to my trusted cousins and sister and explained why I was not attending, and as usual, they threw me tons of support.

I have also planned that I likely will not attend any more visitations and/or funerals. I am fighting the internal thoughts of how that is perceived, but the anxiety and stress are too much. I realize my illness at my mother’s visitation and funeral was not an illness, but various levels of panic and anxiety. Heart racing, nausea, urges to vomiting, stomach pains, sweating are all the things I experienced at Mom’s visitation and funeral. I relived many of those this week as well.

By not attending funerals and visitations, I want everyone to know whoever died is rattling around heavily in my mind. I will just not be there to ‘pay my respects’ traditionally. I hope people understand, but if they don’t I can only take care of me. And with a bum ticker, self-care is even more important.

Until next time.

Tim (Kilmer)