The day of my mother’s funeral was a stressful one, the night prior I had a really difficult time sleeping due to the anxiety and thoughts of what was to come. I tossed and turned that night because of the pressure of letting her go and crying hard was making me more & more angry. I woke up at 4am and sat in her room just looking around at all her belongings, I don’t know if it was weird or not but I made a resting pile of her clothes as a pillow and laid back and just closed my eyes and tried to breathe in, I wasn’t sure if I could sleep let alone relax even the slightest. When morning arrived I was less than stellar because my head was spinning and the feeling of guilt began to sink in, I was feeling guilty because I somehow felt that I should’ve been there and I know it does seem silly to think that. Getting dressed and clothed I could feel my hands shaking and my heavy breathing at the reality of my mother being dead was becoming more apparent, I went to check on my sister and see how she was feeling with today’s situation and she wasn’t feeling so hot. I didn’t wanna bug her due to how my anxiety was acting so I went to continue getting ready. I called my younger brother and told him of everything that would be going on and he was a little relieved to know that it was his siblings that were taking care of everything so I felt a little at ease as far as him. Once we were all prepped and everything we went to the funeral home to where her service was taking place, I fought so hard to keep it together as I walked in and seeing her laying there was too much for my thoughts to contain. The service went as planned and being so close to her body and seeing it just lifeless made me feel weak and I could see the hurt in everyone else too, I wanted to walk away so badly but I couldn’t do that to her seeing as this day will be my last to spend any moments together. After the service we all got escorts to the site where she will be buried but when we arrived I didn’t know I was gonna be one of the people who had to bury her and I felt a sudden coldness in my heart that made me wanna pass out. Looking at that deep hole and my mother’s casket as we put her down in there after a few prayers gave me a sense of reasoning for a sec to convince myself that she could be at peace from her health decline, shoveling all the dirt back on top once again made that feeling go away and my mental health tried to fight back to make me believe that it was my fault. I got it together once my grandmother came over and talked to me because it was her own daughter that had this tragedy so me not being myself wouldn’t have been fair to her. I think about what could’ve been different that day if it wasn’t a perfect plan to send her off peacefully but I’m glad it worked out for the best.