Part 11: Humility and Humor
My chapel speech wasn't as scary as I imagined it would be. My audience hung on to every word… I heard sniffles… I read from my paper in case I broke down and cried or forgot what I wanted to say. I know my purpose was for these students to know that God is real. I desperately hoped they would see the connection I saw, that they would "get" it. For those who were wavering in their faith or had no faith at all, I hoped to shed some light on this whole God/Jesus subject. Maybe they'd give God a chance…. seek Him and His will. All it takes is one tiny drop of faith… faith as small as a mustard seed, Jesus said… just a teensy bit and God can handle the rest.
After my chapel speech I received about 400+ hugs. Students and teachers were in tears… Parents sent me emails thanking me for my strength and courage. It seemed to be a recurring theme… this wonder at my strength, faith, courage, etc. I didn't really see myself as strong. I felt like anything but. I felt weak in my faith… wondered why I wasn't struck dead for being angry with my heavenly Father… for questioning him, for being selfish and wanting my child for me. I'm no Abraham… there's no way in the world I could put my son up on an altar and offer him up to God. I'm not strong enough.
Funny thing is, God gives us what we need, when we need it most. Perhaps He gave me my sarcasm, my dry sense of humor and no filter because He knew people would see me as real. They may be offended, shocked… but you won't hear them saying I beat around the bush, that I don't say what I mean and mean what I say, that's for sure. I'm just me. I'm not perfect. I am a sinner, I make mistakes.
We left school and headed to the funeral home. Ugh. Definitely NOT something I ever dreamed I would be doing… I posted a prayer request on Facebook.
The pastor and music minister met us there. Not exactly sure why. I thought they would walk us through the process, but the funeral director did. We decided to cremate Addison… went back and forth and back and forth and finally came to the decision to cremate. I wasn't sure I could handle a mini-casket at all. I thought I'd fall to pieces. I didn't want a "visitation"… I'm really not big on walking into a room with a dead, dressed up body sitting out on display, and again, not sure I could handle it with a baby. So cremate it was. Looking back, I'm not sure we made the right decision…. I have no desire to visit her grave because, well… to me there's no "body" there…. just a bunch of cat litter (the ash looks like cat litter, in case you were wondering, not like ash from a fireplace like I envisioned). But it's not like I can go back and "un-cremate" her. It is what it is. Like my daughter's preschool teacher says, "You get what you get and you don't pitch a fit". We made the decision. It's done.
There was no charge for the cremation, the funeral director said. They weren't in the business to profit off of a newborn's death, he said. That was nice to know. I felt a little guilty, though. I mean, business is business and it wasn't his fault she died.
The pastor and music minister asked if we'd thought about the service at all, what we wanted, songs, etc. Really? I wanted to laugh. Like I plan funerals every day. Seriously? My daughter's been dead 48 hours and now you want to know how we'd like to honor her memory? What memory? She was nine days old for crying out loud…. what celebration of life? What glory? What praise?
They seemed uninterested, texting on their phones like they had somewhere else to be. Shoot, they probably did. I mean really, who wants to plan a funeral like this?
I felt alone. I wanted to go back to school where I was just surrounded in love and hugs… anywhere but here. I had absolutely NO desire to lay my baby to rest, to tell this stranger what to do with the body, to figure out what to write in a newspaper obituary, or how to commemorate her brief moment on earth. My husband kept looking to me… what did I want?
I wanted to run. Hit STOP on the movie, take the DVD out and smash it into a gazillion little pieces.
I was angry.
I was tired. I wanted to go home and go to bed. I didn't want to plan my daughter's funeral. Who cares anyway? She's dead. Why do we even need a funeral? Take the stupid urn and throw it in the ground, put it on a shelf. I really DON'T care. It's not like it'll be her anymore.
I WANT MY BABY BACK. I wanted to scream. Everyone was talking and murmuring in what seemed like super-slow motion. The memories were just flooding my brain…
I can't imagine how people work at funeral homes. I guess they have to… we need them. But geez… the tragedy they see every day. How in the world do they come home and say, yep, had a great day at work today? What's a great day? Good day? Bad day? Was this a bad day?
I snapped out of my daze and returned to the real world. My hubby has told the music minister a couple of songs he'd like for the service. I told him I had a ton of pictures and we could do a slide show, that we had one from the hospital photographer and we could pair that with the pictures I'd taken over the week. I requested Casting Crown's "Praise You in This Storm"… they said they'd make the "program" for me. I text Big Papa and asked if he would do a prayer… such a wonderful man… of course he said yes. My husband's brother is a minister, and volunteered to speak at the funeral, do a sermon, partner with our pastor, etc. I wondered for a split second if that would be ok. Baptist minister, Church of Christ funeral… is there such a thing as a COC funeral versus any other? I was still fairly new to COC, so I wasn't entirely sure… were we requesting a "no-no"?
Apparently not because it wasn't vetoed. I had no clue so much went into planning a funeral.
Music? Check.
Prayers? Check.
Flowers? On our list. Mother-in-law wanted to get flowers for the service …. go pick out.
Slide show? Yep.
Time? Can you believe the school administration decided to close school early so students and faculty could attend… Wow, Addy… you closed school. How about that?
Preachers? One Baptist, one COC… don't think we need more.
Obituary?
I've gotta stop you on that one. Those things cost money! They charge by the WORD. Now I know…. goodness, not sure I would have put all I did in it had I known…. That was over a hundred dollars… yipes!
Urn? Ugh…time to go pick out Addy's "container". We say our goodbyes to the pastor and music minister and head to the showroom.
I've never seen so many caskets. Wow. And good golly they are expensive. Like thousands and thousands of dollars expensive. I always thought the point of putting a body into the ground was so it could decompose and return to earth…. but some of these caskets looked roomier and more comfortable than my bed! Wow, just wow.
He leads us over to the urn "wall". There's two options for Addy. A small, $45 silver vase looking thing, or a $100 teddy bear with the silver vase thing. It fits inside the bear.
That's it? My God that's tiny.
I'm told there's not much left when a body is cremated. I can't imagine my precious daughter being compacted so small and want to vomit.
What about this wooden box… more like a jewelry box?
That's $300 and it's an adult size.
THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR A BOX? You've got to be kidding me. You've got to. And whaddya mean, "adult size"? Do you really think I'm going to open it up and go gee, the box looks half-empty… or half-full…. hmmm, quite the conversation starter… but no. really? Who cares? And what if we decide to scatter the ashes? What am I going to do with this urn/box/whatever? So it's either $45 and tiny or $300 and huge?
My husband gets the giggles. I glare at him. He is absolutely NO help. Tears are running down his face. I pick the stupid $45 heavy silver vase/cup thing and call it a day. I'm ready to go home, and we still have to go to the cemetery. Here's a picture of how small the darn thing is...
We remember one more thing… I wanted to do Addison's hand and feet prints… you know, the kind you see on the stepping stones? I wanted her prints… maybe do a shadow box or something. We told the director our idea and he was more than happy to help. Even offered to do it for us if we'd bring him the kit. (More on that story later…)
So that's it. That's our funeral home story. While the staff was warm and friendly, that place still gives me the creeps.
Are you still wondering what my husband found so funny? Had he reached his breaking point? Had he finally lost it? He clued me in on the way to our next stop. Asked if I'd ever seen the movie "The Big Lebowski"… never heard of it. He's in tears again, laughing so hard… as he tries to explain the movie clip "The Bereaved". If you've ever seen this movie, you're probably in stitches too… Here's a LINK to the clip. I will warn you, there is foul language in this clip. Turn the volume down… You may find it offensive, but then again you may find it hilarious like my husband….
And since I was still on the fence with scattering the ashes versus burying the urn…. he tried to describe THIS CLIP to me… It's called "Scattering Donny". Again, language warning, (stop it around 1:48) but you can see why my husband found it hard to control himself.
Yep, that's why I married him. Gotta love the sense of humor…. so off we go to the cemetery…. and it's pouring rain.
Halfway there, my husband's uncle calls… too wet to go to the cemetery, let's meet tomorrow. Well good… didn't want to go do that anyway. But, we've got one more stop to make. Something of a surprise.
I'm not sure I like surprises at this point.
He turns into a shopping center and leads me into Gary K Jewelers. Really honey…. I mean, diamonds ARE a girl's best friend, but 1) we're about to spend a lot of money on a piece of marble I never wanted to order in the first place and 2) that's not my daughter. I said nothing but followed him in, curiosity getting the best of me.Once inside, I see a familiar face… one of our girl's basketball coaches. Turns out Coach Kay is the daughter of the owner…. and someone has requested that we go and pick out a special piece of jewelry in remembrance of Addison.
So glad I kept my mouth shut. I'm again humbled… okay, well not so much at first. When I was told to "pick something out", of course my mind and my eyes went straight over to the diamonds…. (can you blame me?). Common sense and frugality then won over and I asked to see charm bracelets and cross necklaces. We picked out a heart charm and had Addy's initials and birthdate engraved on it. I received a bracelet to go with the charm. I also picked out a cross necklace.
My first ever cross necklace. It's been 22 months and I've never taken it off, nor do I ever plan on doing so. It's simple and beautiful.
I'm speechless that someone would do something like this for us. I now know who bestowed such a wonderful and timeless gift upon us, and I thank that family from the bottom of my heart. I'm pretty sure they wish to remain anonymous, so I'll just say thank you a gazillion times over. These pieces truly are special to both my husband and me. He wears his charm on a necklace, attached to a cross he bought on a mission trip to Ecuador. It means the world to him.
What a way to end the day. I'm beat. I'm humbled. I'm too exhausted to continue shaking my finger and yelling at God. He's brought humor into my day… humility and humor.
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