Dear Karen,
Just a quickie before I, too, settle down for a bit of X-factor distraction...
Wanted, really, to say I'm still thinking of you. I know so well how hard it is with a young family to be torn in two such opposing worlds. When my dad died 2 years ago my children were 9, 4 and 15 months. I didn't take them to his funeral, despite them being the light in his life, because I knew
I would upset them with my emotional handling (or not handling) of the day. In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't, but I knew before how much I'd fall apart and even with them there as my rocks and my distraction...I knew. And I cried, and sobbed, and cried some more and really let it out. It would have been harrowing for them to watch as it was harrowing for me to feel.
If I'd been able to, I would have taken them to the wake. The family and dad's friends would have loved to have met them, and it would have been some way to have them part of the day, but we lived too far from the service, so it was all or nothing. That part of the day, I could fake it. Only the service itself was unbearable.
But that's me. No control whatsoever! Tears, more tears, howls, sobs and more tears. Not a pretty sight!
You'll know when the time comes what feels comfortable. My gut told me to save my strength for me, so I did that. I had none in reserve for the children that day... And I suspect I'll feel the same with my mum. I've spent years holding my tears back in front of the children, and that one unique, day I need to say goodbye...my way.
But it's definitely not wrong to take children. Completely and utterly up to you and what feels right...
(your picture of your mum looked a little like my own mum, which was strange. My mum is about half the size, but since they're both in their 60's, I suppose it's not surprising. Just shocked me a little.) The bean bags look fab! But I know, myself, how disturbing the calm visits are. Mum's never awake for me...hasn't been for months and months. I wish she'd just natter on for a bit, but, as you say, it's like she's given up the fight...
Thinking of you still...