When you move away from your parents, you do not know about all of the life they have. My Mom touched a lot of lives. The viewings were both jam packed with people who came to pay their respects. There were people I had not seen in 30-40 years. There were friends and co-workers who knew who I was even though I had no clue who they were.
The funeral home put together a nice video of pictures from various parts of her life that was quite touching. I contributed a few last minute pictures of my own and also made my own little slide show of my Mom's life that you can see here.
I'd always tease my Mom about her love of Rod Stewart, which was why I chose one of his songs for the video I made.
The mass was kind of bungled up by a new priest from Colombia, who spoke softly, with a very thick accent. He relied on the microphone to project his voice and it was not working for him. Then the battery died on the mic, and he could be heard better once he spoke louder. It got weird when one of the laypeople was looking for batteries in the room behind the altar and you could heard all kinds of drawers opening along with some banging.
It got weirder when the priest lost the plot and invited some dead relatives to bring the gifts to the altar. Had said deceased relatives shown up with the gifts of wine and bread, I may have converted then and there.
Then the priest honored the deceased relatives by naming someone who was very much alive, that's when one of my family members had to get up and correct the guy.
I was told about a bagpiper who would be outside the church when my Mom's coffin was brought out, it still startled me a little. Later, I heard the piper arrived early and mistakenly started playing in the cold and snow for the funeral service that happened before my Mom's. So the poor guy had to stand out there and play twice.
You had to laugh, and we did.
When I got home, I wanted to call her to say I got home alright. There are going to be so many of those moments now. Every piece of news about my son, when I'm looking to chat or vent or anything, she's not going to be there. It will take awhile for me to process that. And I have to work hard to keep involved with the family left on the island.
My Mom worked at the Connetquot State Park for many years and loved her job. If anyone wishes to pay their respects, they can send a donation in Honor of Patricia Costello the Friends of the Connetquot River Reserve. There are plans of honoring my Mom with a park bench and a plaque on a sycamore tree. It's a wonderful way to remember her.