Green calico, egg salad sandwiches, and wishful thinking . . .

Between the ages of ten and eleven, I wore a green calico outfit sewn by my mother that I now think of as my funeral uniform. That year I lost both of my grandmothers, an aunt, and a cousin’s grandfather. While the adults were overwhelmed in trying to navigate the seemingly endless medical, legal, and financial logistics along with their own complex emotions, the seven younger Proulx cousins and I were overfilling cups of cocoa with coffee creamer at various funeral homes, treating the luncheons prepared by the church ladies as family reunion picnics, and trying to convince ourselves that the loved one in the casket was peacefully sleeping and would magically wake. It was a year of green calico, egg salad sandwiches, and wishful thinking.

Though I cannot change the past, my work as a death doula is about envisioning what is possible now. I hope to support others in a way that would have helped me and my family members–those who died and their survivors–feel more informed, supported, and seen during that year. This is my way of remembering and honoring the four people I lost and the young girl in the green calico outfit.