When Mum passed away last week and funeral arrangements began in earnest, I worried how I would deal with viewing her body and all the stuff that comes with funerals. But I felt bright and clear-headed throughout the mourning week.
And her burial day began well for me. I woke up effortlessly early in the morning, and it was my cousin, Josephine Wangari, who warmed the water I bathed with before we left home for Lee Funeral Home in Nairobi.
Viewing Mum's body in the mortuary saddened me, but I stayed strong. After the viewing, I got into the hearse with Dad and three ladies. Then we began our journey to my hometown Catholic Church, where the funeral service was held.
The service was wonderful, with beautiful singing by the choir, a great sermon by the priest, and delightful emceeing by Ludovic Kahoro, the church catechist. And I was privileged to offer my tribute.
After the service, we headed home and laid Mum to rest. Tears of grief cascaded down my ruddy face as I watched her casket being lowered into the cold, dark grave. But again, I stayed strong. I had to be. Rest in peace, Mum.
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Also check out "Forgetful Parents, Cheeky Me".
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Finding Strength in Grief
A True Story
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