CONFESSIONS OF A MOM

I went to the funeral of a friend’s sweet little boy last weekend. Hubby knows the couple well and knew a ton of people at the funeral. I got the feeling again that it was a mini reunion. I remember feeling that when we were planning Lion’s funeral. It’s a really sad excuse to have a family reunion, essentially. So as he’s saying hi to everyone, I’m struggling to keep the tears at bay. I remember feeling unsure of how to greet people who were crying and I wanted to be strong for this sweet mom who was going through something I wish no one had to go through.

The casket was closed by the time we got there and I have no idea if it was ever open but in a way I’m glad it wasn’t. I had a hard enough time looking at the beautiful pictures of this little one with his family and by himself. I’m not sure I would have been able to handle really seeing him.

As we sat in the chapel for the funeral service it all felt surreal. Watching the little boys father carry in the beautiful, white casket threw me back to when Hubby carried Lion’s casket into the chapel. The music was perfect. The talks were wonderful. I lost it when the events leading up to when their precious little one went back home. Their experience was much more traumatic than ours but the end result was the same. And my heart broke for them all over again.

I think I squeezed Hubby’s hand too hard but it felt like I had to hang on to ground myself. I cried more at this funeral than I did at Lion’s but I truly believe that’s because I was in shock then. I hadn’t had the time to really process what had happen and what we were doing. The whole time I sat there thinking, we’ve been through this. We’ve actually done this. We’ve felt and are still feeling those things.

Some of the statements I overheard family members make were exactly what we felt or heard our family members say. The emotions talked about in the funeral were what we felt at the time. I felt like the mom was much better prepared for her talk than I was. She delivered it with an incredible amount of composure while I’m sure her heart was breaking even more, if that’s possible.

Oh how I wish no one ever had to experience burying an infant. How I wish I could take that pain and heartache away. How I wish for so many things for those families that I know I can’t do. All I can do is be there as a support and love them. Hopefully my experience will help them get through the rough patches because unfortunately the worst is yet to come for them. Once the meals stop and family isn’t around every day and life moves on, you’re left with a hole and an ache that won’t leave. You don’t want life to move on and yet it does and everyone around you almost expects you to do the same.

I distinctly remember the feeling of emptyness when “life moved on,” whether I wanted it to or not. It was yet another challenge to face, but I know the only way I made it through is with the help of my Savior. The comfort I still receive from Him helps me deal with things as I relive the good and the bad of our precious time with Lion. How I miss Lion and wish he was with us, but I know he’s where he’s supposed to be.

If you’ve lost a loved one, know that my heart breaks for you and with you. But with the help and love and guidance from the Savior, you will make it. Even though it may feel like you won’t, you will make it.