The funeral director was asking us what we think Mum should wear in her casket.
Mum always loved to wear sarongs (fabric wraps that go around the torso and drape downward a bit like a long skirt would), so my uncle suggested that she wear a sarong in there.
The funeral director looked a bit confused, as did some of our family members, to which my uncle added:
"What's sarong with that?"
I started laughing like an idiot. He was proud of it too. The funeral director was rather shocked. We assured her, and our more proper relatives, that Mum would've absolutely loved the joke (which is very true).
His delivery was perfect. I'll never forget the risk he took. We sometimes recall the moment as a way help cushion the blows of the grieving process.
--Edit-- I appreciate the condolences. I'm doing well and the worst is behind me and my family. But thanks :)
--Edit-- Massive thanks for all the awards and kind words. And the puns! Love 'em.
The doctors were 100% sure I was on my way out after I stopped breathing and had to be put on a ventilator and rushed to the ICU. They told my mother there was probably a 4% chance I would survive. and IF I did wake up from my coma, I would be in a vegetative state forever. Unable to talk or move.
I woke up with no permanent damage to anything
Ask me anything
I don't think I even commented, some post from another trafficking survivor brought up this feeling of unease and all you wonderful people knew we must have been busier at this time of year, like everyone.
I was isolated enough to not know the holidays existed when it was all going on, I remember being taught a few things to say and a few costumes maybe but I had no idea what it all was. Still, you'd think I would have put it together by now, working in the service industry and even having done consensual sex work, knowing all the businesses that are busier or less busy at this time and why. I didn't though, because I still just can't see things like the whole wide world exists. Still a fucking idiot with no way of seeing but what they gave me. Still a little kid in a dark room every moment that its not serving its purpose, and there's nothing else.
Took me 15 years to figure this out.
Thanks y'all.
[It's marked vent because I don't want advice or comfort if that makes sense. Your own vent/similar experience/solidarity comments welcome. Not in the place to be reassured I'm not stupid for not figuring it etc. I know, but I'm venting about that part of it.]
EDIT Dec 24 afternoon: Quick run to the grocery store made me feel better. Lots of people clearly shopping for one and trying to make it a normal shopping stop, giving each other little nods among the families getting last minute recipe supplies. Cashier complimented my hair and firmly said "have a great day", nothing about holidays.
I can't get enough of thug gangsta rap! Not the mainstream stuff either...really underground hood shit like Veli Dosa, Pliers, Kenneth Gates, Latte, Track Daddy, Gucci Mange etc.
It's so refreshing listening to authentic music.
