A wonderful resource...
Monday, May 31, 2010 at 6:00AM Today, it is my honor and pleasure to bring you a guest blog post. Please welcome my new friend, Miri. I wish I'd known about this worthy resource sooner...
My mother was an incredible woman. Her eyes were a beautiful speckled green, but whenever she cried, they turned crystal blue like the ocean. My baby daughter’s eyes are exactly like Mom’s, and I often find myself just staring into them. It’s almost as if I am stuck right in the middle, searching those eyes for my mother’s wisdom while falling even more in love with my infant daughter. Mom would have spoiled my daughters rotten. I wish she hadn’t died, because I would have loved watching her do just that.
In 2003, Mom was diagnosed with viral cardiomyopathy. Almost immediately, I watched her start to fade away, and it broke my heart. Nothing could make her laugh, nothing excited her. Mom just kind of “existed” in the world. Nobody blamed her at all. In fact, we almost encouraged it because we wanted her to be comfortable.
On a joyous note, I finally got pregnant in 2005 after suffering two miscarriages. I couldn’t have been happier. Unfortunately, my first pregnancy turned out to be very stressful because I was terrified that Mom would die before I delivered. I wanted so badly for her to hold her grandchild and to have that “moment.” Thankfully, my first daughter was born in May 2006, and I was on top of the world. We all rejoiced in that “moment” and continued on happily for four more precious months.
I last saw Mom on my 29th birthday. My husband, baby and I drove to my parents’ house in Palm Springs to celebrate. Mom had made my favorite meal: a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Even though it was 105 degrees outside, nobody cared because it was such a fun gathering. Being a grandmother made Mom happier than I had ever seen her in my life. She couldn’t get enough cooing, giggling and snuggling. I only wish I had stayed longer. I wish I hadn’t been so concerned about L.A. traffic and baby’s bedtime. I wish that when I hugged Mom goodbye, I’d held her a lot tighter for a lot longer.
When I got the phone call that Mom had died, I remember looking around and waiting for something to stop. I waited for a sign or some indication that the world understood this immense loss. But there was nothing. My daughter still needed to be fed. The laundry still needed washing. My husband called me every five minutes, asking if I was okay. I was just so numb. I went into “robot” mode and knocked out task after task. Cremation arrangements – check. Call all relatives –check. Make husband’s lunch, change 40 dirty diapers and clean house – check. It was almost comical, in a sick way. In a single moment, I had become my mother. I was overwhelmed, devastated and exhausted. Of course, the only person who could have helped me was gone forever. Oh, the irony.
One night, after the phone had rung for the hundredth time, I finally unplugged it from the wall. I sat on my front porch and listened to the silence. The lack of endless condolence calls brought upon a much needed peace. I figured there had to be a better way. How could I tell the world what they had lost? How could I share the final arrangements with friends and family? How could I record my mom’s life so my daughter’s would “know” her? And how could I possibly do this without having to talk for one more second on that awful telephone? That’s when I decided to build Valley of Life.
Building a website was much easier in theory than it was in execution. As I was creating Valley of Life, I heard many negative comments. People thought it was morbid and depressing. They said I was dreaming if I thought anyone would use the site. I tried not to listen and kept on building.
We started with the free online memorials. I hated the way other sites made you pay if you didn’t want your memorial to look like a Times Square billboard, so I decided our memorials would be free, with zero ads. At Valley of Life, memorials can be public or private, with a personalized URL if desired. Each free memorial has picture, video and audio capabilities. There is a guestbook section for condolences and a memorial bank section for sharing memories.
After the memorials, we created the funeral notice feature. I despised having to call people after Mom died and witness their devastation firsthand. It ripped me apart every single time. The funeral notice allows you to send out the details while remaining respectful and informative. We recently just added a way for recipients of the funeral notice to send flowers directly to the funeral home. All of the features on Valley of Life are there to help make grieving a little bit easier.
Valley of Life was created out of love. Not just because I loved my Mom, but because I love my daughters. They deserve to know who she was and learn the stories of where they came from. Valley of Life honors, celebrates and protects the life stories of everyone in it. I hope the help it provides and the people it honors will live on for many more generations to come.
Thank You,
Miri Rossitto
Reader Comments (1)
what a wonderful idea!