~ Jacob's Funeral Part One ~
The day had finally come. All week this dreaded day, one of two hard days. We would have a service for Jacob that night in the church and he would stay in the church overnight and then we'd meet there again in the morning and then drive to the monastery where Jacob would be buried Friday afternoon. I remember random things leading up to that day. Things like a mutual friend from college, Drew, had brought us coffee and donuts one morning. It was so sweet. I remember seeing him and thinking how strange it was that Dan, he and I had all had so many fun, innocent and careless times together so many years ago and here he was bringing us coffee because our baby died. It was such a weird reality. It was like I was in a weird bubble of time, comparing old memories of such young and naive fun to this week we'd been living which was the complete and utter opposite of all of that. That and the feeling that I'd never be able to be that careless innocent girl again. There was no sarcasm that would get me through the coming 48 hours. I remember that my friends from church, Ana and Darlene, among others had been emailing and getting my ideas for what I wanted the funeral to look like. We had decided that the family would eat a meal before and they were happy to prepare that for us, they offered it, and we graciously accepted. I remember asking Ana to print out that quote from the service that I have on the home page of the blog and asked her to have that framed on a table. We didn't want to have people send flowers so I'd set up a memorial fund in Jacob's memory with our financial planner so that we could give back to all the nurses, and everyone that helped us so much during that week. We discussed maybe having food for after the evening service as maybe there would be others there, from out of town. Details....details........details.
As I said in one of my previous chapters, we had had maternity pictures taken of me and the family together exactly a week before Jacob had died. Our photographer, Stacey, had been so amazing that day. I remember that week writing to her and telling her what had happened. My email started out, "I wanted to send this to you quickly. I have some bad news." I told her what had happened and that I had been so glad I followed my heart and actually had her take pictures, turns out they were the only ones we would have of Jacob alive in my belly. I had only seen a few at that point as she was editing and super busy, but I asked her if she could maybe find one, a classic looking one, of me and Jacob that would be appropriate for the service at the end of the week. I didn't want a picture of him up from the hospital, but wanted one of me happy, with him, alive in me. She offered to look through and she, of her own accord, had them printed and sent overnight to us. We had not seen any of them at that point when they arrived. She did not charge us anything, she just did it out of the goodness of her heart. Dan and I sat down and opened them. They came in a very nice brown box with a ivory bow around it. We opened it and wrapped in tissue were about 6 pictures, large enough to have professionally framed and in there was the one that we knew we would use. It was the one that I'd hoped to get before we even had our session, the one that we would have put up somewhere in the house to remind the kids of how happy I was when I was pregnant, except now, it was so hard to look at it. The happiness I had in that picture seemed so many light years away from the sadness and emptiness that I had now. It was the one I wanted for the service and Dan's dad had it framed for us for that night. It is hanging in front of me as I type this from our bed and I look at it every morning and every night. Stacey was an angel in our life for taking this and capturing a time that was indeed more precious than we ever could have known.
 |
| Taken on March 10, 2012 www.staceylynnstudio.com |
I remember telling the ladies and my sister-in-law to tell all the people not to hug me too tightly because my chest was still throbbing from my milk having come in but having no relief, no baby. Many of the people at church, I would be seeing for the first time at the service that night, since Jacob had died and I expected them to want to hug me but sadly had to make sure they were aware that would actually be physically painful. Time passed and I started to get dressed. What to wear? What do you wear to your son's funeral??? Ugh. I didn't want to look all drab. I was sure my face would do the trick in that department, no need to wear all black too. I took out the dress I knew that would fit and was a cheerful color, reminded me of a happier time, my green dress. Also one I had worn almost two weeks ago for the maternity pictures. Every time I see it, I remember the funeral, not the fun pictures though. I was not sure how many people would be there but I knew it would be hard and as much as I didn't want to go, I did because I knew Jacob was there waiting and I'd be able to see him again. Something I'd not be able to do by this time tomorrow. I put on my makeup, did my hair as I had time because I did not have a newborn, put on some waterproof mascara I'd bought and then it was time.
Somehow we got the kids ready to go. The plan was to change them into nicer clothes after we ate and so that was not too much of a hassle. The drive to the church seemed longer than usual. We got there and went in to eat. As I walked in, I was amazed to see that Darlene and Rose and maybe some others had transformed our small church hall into something I'd never seen before. The tables were set up differently, they'd placed beautiful ivory table clothes on them instead of the heavy duty vinyl ones we usually had, flowers in vases, a beautiful table set for food, an area rug for warmth I suppose and a table for the family to eat at. It was perfect. I had dreaded entering the church and it forever being sealed in my memory that this was where my son's funeral had been. Would I ever be able to return again after these two days? Well, Darlene took that out of my ever growing worry container and seeing the transformation she had made I knew that it would never look that way ever again. It was all perfect. Rose, my substitute Italian grandmother, was there to help serve us. She is so precious and dear to me. We ate and the kids played outside. Slowly people started arriving. I got the kids ready and changed or someone did and I went outside to catch my breath.
As I was standing outside, someone drove up and as I saw her get out of her car I realized it was my best friend from college, Jennifer. We had not really talked much in a long time. She'd been having her babies and I'd been having mine. We'd parted ways after college but had, over the last few years, reconnected and the amount of fun times we'd had together in college were far to many for me to ever remember. She had been my best friend and even though we'd not see each other in about 4 years, there she was walking towards me. I knew she'd left her husband and three sons home to drive the 4 hours to be there with me for this service, just to stand there in the church so I knew she had my back the whole time. I was so happy to see her and I remember her being calm and a little teary but so was I. She said how sorry she was and I think I hugged her. I'd spent all week dreading this day but not once preparing myself for it. In her true fashion she knew exactly what to say and what to talk about. I will never forget this as it's the best advice anyone could have ever given me and only she would have thought of it. She said, "Okay, so you do you have a totally irrational, inappropriate, place to go to in your head during the service?" I thought and realized...crap, no...I don't. She said, "Okay, you just have to think of something totally random whenever it gets to be too much." She was right, I needed a plan for checking out of reality during the service. HOW did she think of this? I was so amazed, but in the way I'd always been by her. She knew exactly what to say, what I would need, and if she could not distract me herself during the service, which I'm sure she would have done if it came to that with a silly dance or something, she was going to make damn well sure I had an out even if she were 10 feet away from me. That was her way of standing right by me the whole time. I knew she had my back, regardless of the time we'd spent apart and because that's what real friends do. They stand with you, beside you, and find ways to get you through your shit days. This was by far the shittiest day I'd ever come across. She didn't think about herself, how SHE would hold up, would SHE cry, what would SHE say, how would SHE handle it... I mean maybe she did, but her number one goal was to make sure I knew how to get though it, because I didn't, and as I have learned over the time since Jacob died, a true friend, someone who really loves you, thinks about what you need, and tries to be there in whatever way that is for you. It's not about what they need or would like or how they are feeling, how they are grieving, it's a totally unselfish love and friendship when someone stops thinking of themselves and thinks of those around them.
Just then, to my shock and surprise, a sorority sister came walking up, Rachelle. I'd not seen her since college. Wow, how did she know? How was she there? She was there. As she walked towards me, with tears in her eyes, all I could think and feel was such pure love and amazement that she had driven all this way, I didn't even know from where, to stand there with us to say goodbye to Jacob when we'd not talked in almost 10 years, maybe more. What an unselfish act. I wonder if I would have done the same in her shoes...I think I would have talked myself out of it, out of nervousness and not knowing what to say or thinking maybe I would be unwanted, but as she walked up I wanted her there and was so happy that she had come. It filled my heart with such love to see her do this, just be there, that I didn't have words to express it. Thanks Rachelle.
Slowly everyone started to arrive. I knew I needed to go in. I'd already spent some time in the empty church with Jacob earlier from when we'd first arrived but knew this was the big hurdle of the night, the service. It would be about 45 minutes and I had to somehow make it through. At least I was now armed with the thought of baseball to distract me from this nightmare reality I was about to live through.
I don't remember the service starting so much, I was probably already checking out of it. I just remember looking at Jacob. We had an open casket because after much debate, mostly in my head, I came to the conclusion that I didn't care what anyone else thought, was or was not comfortable with, but I was not going to hide him from the world. He was perfect to me and that was that. I wanted to see him as long as I could. Still, standing about 4 feet from him with Dan next to me, it still felt too far. I was so tired. I remember wanting to sit down. I'd been going all week and knew that my bleeding had increased the more I did. I am just remembering now that I though I had blood dripping down my leg during the entire service, turned out I was wrong, but it was not like I was going to leave and go to the bathroom. I didn't care. I thought about baseball, random things, I have no idea what. In Orthodoxy much of our services are sung and I knew at the end of this one there would be two songs that I would most likely not make it through without crying and no amount of preparing mentally for them would block them out. They had been sung at Dan's mom's funeral and now would be sung at Jacob's.
I used to sing in the choir before the kids kept me from being able to stay in church through a whole service and even singing these songs for others I didn't even know very well, I would cry and I don't consider myself a "crier". They are so moving and unlike what I hear at other funerals, like, Amazing Grace and the like. These somehow cut to the heart and, for me at least, force you to cry almost, like an intentional purging for the grieving soul. I think at some point I told Dan I had to sit down, I have no idea who was with the kids, but as the time grew closer to the end I kept thinking I can't do this even though I knew I had to and would. As the service neared its close the choir began to sing one of the last two songs. The first was Memory Eternal and during it Fr. Christopher walked around Jacob's coffin three times while he sensed Jacob the whole time. I remember hearing the choir sing and totally breaking down, Dan and I both. I thought, well I wished and was surprised, that the earth did not just open up and swallow us whole. This was our son, they were singing memory eternal for him, we were standing there and all our friends were there and this was really, REALLY, happening. I remember someone coming over and hugging us, Dan's dad, and if he had not hugged us I think we both would have ended up on the floor. I will always be grateful to Dan's dad for having the tenderness, love and courage to come and hold us up as he cried with us too. He knew. He had buried his wife just 18 months earlier. This was not right for any of us. The song came to a close and I think Fr. Christopher said a few words and then explained that we would kiss Jacob and if others wanted to say their goodbyes to him this was also the time for that as well, that we would, Dan and I, at that time receive everyone's condolences (think a receiving line at a wedding) and then there were light refreshments in the hall of the church for those that had come. With that conclusion the choir started the final song. The Last Kiss. I wish I had a recording of this as without the music it does not have as much effect however the words speak volumes regardless and as the choir began to sing Dan and I gave one of many last kisses to our sweet baby Jacob...
The Last Kiss
Who would not lament, O my child for your sorrowful departure from this life? For a babe prematurely from your mother's arms, like a sparrow you swiftly fled, and to the creator of all you escaped, O Child, who would not lament, beholding your rosy face, so early faded, that was like a pleasant rose just awhile ago? Who, then, would not sigh O my child, and cry aloud and weep at your well-ordered comeliness, and at the beauty of your pure life? For, like a ship that leaves no wake behind, equally speedily you have vanished from my eyes! Come, all of you my friends, relatives and neighbors, along with me, kiss him for a final time, to the tomb committing him. Come, let us give the last kiss unto the dead, rendering thanks unto God. For he has vanished from among his kin, and presses onward to the grave, and he troubles himself no longer with vanities, or with the flesh, which suffers sore distress. Where now are his kinsfolk and his friends? Lo, we are parted. Let us beseech the Lord that He will grant him rest.
Dan and I took our places to the side just past his coffin and the people that had come formed into a line to look at our sweet Jacob and say goodbye. Some kissed him and some just touched him or looked at him. I was fine with all of it and none of it...why was this happening to us? Then the hugs started, all super soft and sweet, all tearful. There were so many people and it seemed endless, which each genuine condolence, each grief stricken friend, I grew a little weaker. Tears pouring out of me, everything I'd managed to pent up all week, all flooding out, spilling in front of everyone. This is a rare moment in life where I was, on display, totally broken, totally unraveled, completely and utterly vulnerable. It was humbling and exhausting all at the same time.
Through glazed over eyes I tried to thank each person sincerely for coming, looking at Jacob, being there and praying for us and tried to look everyone in the eyes. I remember that. I am not sure how some of you remember it, if you were there. As the line came to an end so did my tears. Again, I had cried all I could at that point, there was literally nothing left in me. I remember going to sit down in the church not too far from Jacob. The church was dark with low lights and many candles lit around Jacob. I remember sitting there alone, listening and seeing the people in the hall talking and socializing. I felt like my body was stuck in cement. I knew I should go and talk to people, "be social", and I did NOT want to. I did not think I could muster up any shred of strength to get out of my seat much less walk to the back and have any words, much less complete sentences, come out of my mouth. So I sat for a little bit. Just me and Jacob in the church alone. Soon people would begin reading the Psalms over Jacob by candlelight. One at a time, for 30 minute shifts, all night long. He would never be alone in that church all night and that was about the only thing that gave me any peace that night in going home with my other children and having to leave Jacob behind. Again, I was torn as I wanted to be with him but my children also needed me and needed me more than Jacob did as much as I hated to admit it. I looked back again at the hall full of friends and family....some people that I'd never expected to see, some that I had hoped would come but did not for whatever reasons. I thought again about Jennifer, my friend from college, that had driven all that way just to stand there and I could not bear the thought of her leaving without saying hello to her again and at least talking to her some, so without a plan or any goal other than finding her and saying thank you again for coming, I willed myself out of that chair, in the almost empty church, and walked away from Jacob, leaving him behind, to try and go be a good person and try to be social. I made my way back to the back of the room where Jennifer was and everyone was catching up and talking. I just tried to be normal, whatever that was, and stay awake. People slowly filtered out. I made sure Jennifer knew where she was going, she promised she did and I thanked her again for coming. As she left others also left and soon it was just family. I remember Allie was so tired by that point. It was almost 10 PM I think and Allie was usually always in bed by 7 PM. She was twirling around in circles on the rug and falling down dizzy with her legs spread out up in the air. I remember thinking and kind of laughing that she looked like a drunken college girl who was clearly done for the night. She made me smile. Actually, she may have been the only person to get a truly genuine smile out of me that night. We started to pack up and get ready to go. I don't remember anything else, the drive home, putting the kids down, getting into bed, none of it. That night was over and the countdown to never seeing Jacob's face again with my own two eyes was beginning....16 hours to go....then the next time I'd see him after he was buried would be when I died...
Tick....
Tock....
Tick...
Tock...
Tick... Tock.....Tick....
Tock....
Tick...
Tock...
 |
| March 22, 2012 My dear cousin Joanna and I spending a moment with Jacob on Thursday prior to the service. I'm wearing the green dress I'd been in for my maternity pictures just 12 days earlier. I also wore the same necklace I had worn on our wedding day; a cross Dan had given me on our one year anniversary of dating and a diamond that belonged to my dear sweet grandmother Isabel. The flowers were beautiful, the only ones there, but perfect and sent by Jacob's uncle Pete's boss for the service. We still have some of the pussy willows from that arrangement. |
No comments:
Post a Comment