Ceremony is over

I just received the photos/videos of my mom's funeral (that I decided not to attend). I looked at them very briefly, and the moment I saw the urn containing my mom's ashes, I just absolutely broke down ugly crying, with my chest so "on fire" that I couldn't even breathe...

Meanwhile everyone else did far better job than I at containing their grief (some even smiling... or at least for the photos). This gave me confirmation that I was not fit to have attended. Not only would I have been a crying/fainting mess, but I would have felt horrible for preventing everyone from focusing on their individual goodbyes and leaving them with this experience of my mom's funeral.

So I'm at peace with my decision. But I will never be at peace with my mom's death.

In fact, I vehemently disagree with it. My mom was such an beautiful, loving person who should have been made to live eternally. She does not belong under the cold ground, under the rain. There was so much more that she and I both wanted to do together. So many milestones that will pain me to achieve (or even want to achieve at all) without her being there to hug me tightly and kiss me in that "aggressively proud mother" way that could only come from her.

I know that she, personally, would have loved to be a grandmother. She would've had so much love to give my (hypothetical) kids. She would often tell me that she'd always be available to babysit whenever I'd need it and/or to lend me a helping hand at work, as my personal secretary or whatever kind of assistant I would need her to be (as the dedicated businesswoman that she was).

She had (and wanted to continue having) an active role in my life. I miss everything about her. Even just hearing her popping chewing gum bubbles (Excel spearmint; always the same one), walking in heels, burning her toast (each and every morning), stinking up the place with her fancy expensive perfumes, etc. Those things (and much more) were all ways in which she had a memorable, irreplaceable role in my life.

I don't know how I'm going to do the rest of my life without her physically there. I really don't...