5 years ago on this day I laid my first born son to his final resting place. It is something that I never in a million years thought I would experience. That day was actually harder than the day Braxton was born, but only with us for 7 hours. August 22, 2012 was a form of final that I did not want to happen. The form of final that literally takes a piece of your soul to a place you know you can never get back. With tons of thought we decided as a family that a very private burial is what we wanted for Braxton with a memorial mass to follow a few days later. We wanted the mass mainly because we were so very honored and grateful for the amount of prayers we received during our pregnancy and we wanted to share Braxton's life with everyone who loved us. As numb as I was on the burial day, well actually for many months, there are still some very vivid moments of it too. There will be lots I will share when that time comes in my journey reflections but today my heart is heavy with the sadness of this day. Although I know Braxton physically may be buried at that cemetery that I visit weekly, my heart also knows he was welcomed into God's kingdom long before we laid him to rest.
If I could choose one word that sticks out about that day it is sounds!
So many sounds stand out in my head that took place that day:
The sound of:
- my alarm going off that morning to wake me up to the nightmare I was actually living, one I wanted to snooze for eternity
- the blow dryer as I sat down on the floor to get ready for the burial because I had no energy to stand
- the sound of my Mom entering my house and then into my room to find me crying as I stood in front of my mirror in a black dress that my cousin had bought for me to wear because I refused to do it before he was born just in case the Dr's were wrong
- my Mom pinning the clasp shut on an I Love You sign pin to my dress, a pin that she gives to each special person in her life as they experience a burial very close to the heart, a pin that was not ever supposed to be given to me this early in life
- my Dad knocking on my bedroom door to tell me it was time to go and that we could not put it off any longer
- my Brother sniffling as he tried his hardest to be strong for me as he loaded me into the van telling me with every movement how proud he was of me
- the silence as we headed to the graveyard
- Brent readjusting his positioning in the seat as we headed there because he knew what was about to take place even after all our sleepless nights of intense prayer
- the gravel as we drove into the cemetery and saw our family and close friends gathered under the beautiful oak trees that would now shade my babies tiny coffin
- the van door sliding open as we were welcomed by some of the most important people in our lives who were there for our support
- the cries as we made our way to our seats under the pavilion
- our priest asking everyone to take a seat as the service was ready to start as he began to speak heartfelt words of our journey
- beautiful music sung by my Aunt & cousins with pure love and strength all because they knew it was one of my only real requests
- my Uncle Danny telling Braxton's story through Braxton's eyes so Brent & I could hear what we meant to him in a way we never knew was even possible
- my Father in Law embracing my Mother in Law behind me with a love only a husband could offer to his wife as they watched their oldest son bury his oldest son
- my Sister in Law repeating in my ear how much she loved us each time she saw me fold over in intense heartache throughout the burial
- the service ending which meant I had to leave him there all alone shortly
- my Mom unable to be strong any longer as she let out a wail of intense pain not only for me but for herself, the one who had stood unselfish through it all finally allowing her heart to break
- my Dad asking to walk me to the tiniest coffin I have ever seen so that I could see the prettiest solid red baby roses he had picked for my sweet boy, because he knew I would want some for a keepsake
- my dearest friends sobbing as they huddled around me in a group hug I will never forget, one that spoke volumes of our connection
The sounds could go on and on about that day. But the one sound I will never forget was the sound that I heard as I was being escorted back to the van to leave before the coffin would be lowered into the ground (an action we requested not to see due to the pain it would cause us ). It was the sound of Brent breaking. We had already stood at the coffin to say goodbye together, but I guess I hadn't noticed he was unable to walk away. As he broke I heard him almost pounding on the coffin and telling Braxton how sorry he was. I will never forget trying to close my eyes so tight to maybe almost cause my senses to shut off for a few minutes. My husband, the one who never shows a ton of emotion, the one who got me through an entire pregnancy of worry, the one who allowed me to experience every single thing I asked for while I was carrying Braxton because he knew that time was beyond precious to me. He was finally unable to control his pain. It is a very profound moment in my life and will forever leave a mark on my heart.
It was a sound I never want to hear again,
yet a sound I was honored to witness.
It was the sound of a Dad
allowing himself to grieve for his child.
It was the sound of pure LOVE being taken away,
but also of pure LOVE being given.
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