On Friday; the Funeral

The day had come. I was filled with nervousness, scared that this would be the end. The end to all of the visits, the calls, the love and the prayers. Scared I would now be alone. For the first day I tried to look decent. I tried to ready myself putting on clean clothes for only the third time in a week. It had seemed so impossible so unimportant to pick out clothes each time I stood in the closet that week. It was much easier to grab the ones from the day before. But today, I should try to look good to honor Jeffrey. Two wonderful friends came to pick me up early so that I could go to the funeral home and be close to his body one last time. Just a few quiet minutes with my baby boy to say goodbye and make sure he was handsome for the viewing. As we drove there I felt numb. The strangest reaction as I was in the room with him, I found myself leaned over his little body which now looked more like he was sleeping and could just awaken at any moment. I prayed once for him to just awake and scramble to get up and into my arms, but that wasn't really what I wanted. He was in Heaven. He had already suffered through his time in this world. He never knew heartache or sickness. He only knew the love of our arms, the comfort of my breast and being carried on my hips. He would never have to know anything else. How merciful is God that he would save him from that! As people here on earth, our purpose in life is to make a choice to love Jesus, to let him in our hearts and have a personal relationship with Him. Not for show, not for anyone, but for us. And as parents it is our job to make sure our kids make this choice two. I am 25% done with this job as there is no doubt of where he is and I have the assurance of seeing him again. As I bent over his casket, I stroked his little cheeks and hands, I sobbed and thanked God. I felt so terribly greatful. I thanked Him for the time I had with him here. 17 beautiful months. I thanked God that he was sick that night and he got to fall asleep in my arms one last time and I got to hold him and enjoy his sweet breath and cuddly self instead of our usual routine where I would have layed him in bed awake. I thanked God that he had not had to endure sickness or pain and asked God to hug him so tight for me. I love that little boy so much and I ALWAYS will.
We drove home and waited shortly until time to go to the church. I thought we would get there early so that I could make sure everything was set up the way I wanted and make sure all of the videos I had made were in order. However, when we arrived, greif overtook me. The reality of burying my son that day. There was no more business, just hundreds of people offering condolences which was heart warming, but left no room for denial of why we were there. We sat in the front pew in front of Jeffreys Casket and recieved visitors. Such a wonderful outpouring of love from such a widespread group of people. Music played as pictures that a friend made rolled on the screens. Finally, it was time to start. They cued the first video and it didn't start. The preacher got up and began to read the obituary. I wanted to stand up and scream for him to stop to wait for the music to play. This is not how it was supposed to be. I had already surrendered the set up to the funeral home because I was just to weak to do it myself, but I could not let go of this. I had invested two days. Two nights of not going to bed until 3 to make this perfect. To make it a beautiful memory of him. I asked friends to go tell him how to fix it. I was devastated... angry. It never started and the preacher went on with his sermon. It was done in a nervous tone. Nothing was right. It was all so wrong. I wanted to stand up and run from the building. It was just more than I could bear. I managed to keep my seat and I have to let it go now. No going back. It had been ruined. I should have gone the night before and checked them like I wanted to. We again recieved visitors and then left for the cemetary. The sun had popped out when we arrived after a dreary ride to the church that morning, but it was a cruel joke. It was bittterly cold and windy. There were only a few short words there. I had already said my goodbyes that morning. He was not there in that coffin about to be lowered into the ground. I had nothing. We gathered at the church for food. So many people were gracious enough to stay. We had not yet been left alone. They played the movies during the food. Small consolation, but they really were perfect. Many people came back to the house to get us through the night. We were absolutely drained that night physically, emotionally, it was all gone. Just our shells there existing. numb inside. What would tomorrow bring? It was all over.