Aaron's Funeral Mass

I did actually write most of this post the day after Aaron's funeral but just hadn't posted it yet.  Honestly, tonight has been one of the hardest I've had since we received the diagnosis in October so rather than try to make sense of the mess in my head right now, I decided it would be a good night to finish up this post and reflect on the peace I felt when I first wrote it. 

As I have mentioned before, Aaron's Mass was absolutely beautiful and Father John did a wonderful job of speaking directly to our hearts.  It did truly help us find a peace in laying our son to rest.  We were blessed to have so many family members and friends who were able to join us and we were touched by each person who came to help us celebrate our little guy.

I don't think it will ever be possible to forget that day, but I wanted to write it all down tonight while it was still so fresh in my mind so that I will always be able to come back and read over this.  I also wanted to share with anyone who wasn't able to be with us for his service.

Since we had chosen not to do a visitation, we were fortunate enough to have the church opened an hour and a half before Mass so that Chris and I could have some time to spend in prayer quietly with our son before we welcomed family and friends to gather with us.  Although it isn't something that is normally done, especially not in a lot of Catholic churches, it meant so very much to have that time before Mass to spend a few minutes with each person who came to celebrate Aaron's life and show their support for our family.  Father John has said several times since we first met with him that there isn't really isn't a good manual for this sort of thing and it was evident that he was truly letting God guide him in finding what would be best for us and our family.

Thankfully, we had chosen many of the readings and music selections before Aaron was born so we had plenty of time to reflect on exactly what we wanted.  As I heard the songs sung by those who love us and the words we had chosen read aloud, we knew we had chosen correctly.  Although we are heartbroken that Aaron didn't get to stay here with us, we wanted his funeral Mass to make it clear that we know he is safe where he is and we believe that one day we will see him again. 

 Funeral Liturgy Selections
 * Gathering Hymn - "We Walk By Faith"  "We Walk By Faith" YouTube
 * First Reading - Wisdom 4:7-15
 * Responsorial Psalm - Psalm 23
 * Second Reading - 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
 * Gospel Reading - John 14:1-6
 * Communion Hymn - "Be Not Afraid"  "Be Not Afraid" YouTube
 * Song of Farewell - "On Eagle's Wings"  "On Eagle's Wings" YouTube

We went out to the cemetery immediately after Mass.  Chris, the girls and I all got to ride with Aaron in the limo, which was nice except that I panicked about halfway to the cemetery and thought that I had forgotten how to get there (and realized later that I definitely did not pick the shortest route).  Thankfully my dad came to the rescue and helped lead us the rest of the way (as it turns out, I knew where we were going...just had a momentary freak out).

Father John said a few final words graveside, then the girls wanted to send some balloons up to Aaron in Heaven.  Tori had chosen a blue balloon for him and Abby insisted that he wanted pink. (Abby let hers go later than the rest because she was standing on the string, but somehow it caught up to the others almost right away.)  Chris and I had white balloons for him (thank you to my younger sister for picking them up for us).  We stood with the girls until the balloons were out of sight and listened as Tori told us about what she thought Aaron would do with his balloons - she was pretty sure he was going to pop them, just for fun.

Friends and family headed back into town to meet us for the luncheon that some very kind women from church had prepared for us.  Chris and I had decided ahead of time that we wanted to stay behind until they placed Aaron's casket in the ground.  The two men were so gentle as they laid down to lower him and then stepped aside so we had a few minutes to talk with our son one more time.  Although it was muddy, Chris and I each got to place a handful of earth with him (although the mud wasn't nearly as poetic as dry dirt...the messy clunkiness seemed more appropriate for the way we felt anyway). 

Honestly, I wasn't sure how I would feel about staying to watch my son be placed in the ground.  As it turned out, my husband once again knew what he was talking about when he suggested it.  It produced a feeling of closure and finality to it all that I'm not sure I would've felt otherwise.  I know it may not be the right choice for everyone, but for us, it was certainly the right thing to do. 

As I said in my first post about Aaron's funeral mass, it was a chilly rainy day but it was a beautiful service.  We are so very grateful for the friends and family who were able to join us and sincerely appreciate the prayers of those who weren't able to be there. 

Peace Be With You

One week ago, we welcomed Aaron Michael into our arms.  Today we laid him to rest, trusting that he will now rest peacefully in the arms of God. 

Despite the cold rain that fell all day today, we have been surrounded by nothing but warmth and beauty from all those who celebrated Aaron's life with us.  Father John conducted a Mass that was truly beautiful and was exactly what we had wanted for our son.  He has treated us with so much compassion and done absolutely everything in his power to help two grieving parents celebrate their child.  He spoke from his heart and his sincerity was evident in every word that he spoke.  The woman who helped coordinate all the elements of Mass is one of the kindest souls I have ever met; she shared a piece of her heart with me and worked so hard to make sure everything today was as perfect as it could be.  The folks from the funeral home have truly been a blessing throughout this process and have gone above and beyond more times than I can even count to help us honor our little boy.  The sweet ladies who prepared a small luncheon for our friends and family to enjoy following the burial provided us all with a place to meet and spend some time together after saying goodbye to Aaron. 

We also had so much support from family, friends and coworkers who came to celebrate Mass with us...and so many more prayers from those who couldn't join us today.  I don't know that I have ever been one who can honestly say that I've ever personally felt the power of prayer before, but that is the only explanation I have for the peace and comfort that we have felt today.

We are, of course, grieving the fact that we never got to bring our son home, but at the same time Chris and I both feel calmer tonight than we have at any point during the last week.  We truly feel that we have passed Aaron's spirit into the arms of God and that his earthly body is resting comfortably in its proper place here.  The peace that has brought to both of us is like nothing I could ever have expected.  Truly, I expected to battle a lot of emotions today, but I did not expect peace to be at the forefront.  

I know that in the weeks to come, this peace may sometimes be overshadowed by the grief and the loss that we will continue to feel for the rest of our lives.  We will never forget that our sweet son was taken from us in time that we felt was all too short, but my hope is that we will always be able to find our way back to the peace that we feel tonight. 

(I do plan to post all of the details from Aaron's service, maybe later tonight or tomorrow, but this was on my heart and I wanted to share it, perhaps to help others who are grieving our loss alongside us tonight.)

Making Arrangements

I finally called the funeral home yesterday.  A little over a month ago, my friend Courtney recommended several in the area and had really good things to say about one in particular.  It's taken me this long to call them.  (Honestly though, when you think about it...how eager would you be to make that call if you found yourself in my shoes?  Exactly.)

I was amazed at how compassionate and incredibly kind the man on the other end of the phone was.   I know in that particular line of work...you should expect kindness and compassion, but I'm fairly certain that isn't always the case.  It's a family owned business that has been in the community for nearly 65 years and is currently operated by two brothers and their children.  Honestly, just reading the biographies on their website was touching - they consider their profession to truly be "a calling to the funeral ministry." 

I started out by explaining our situation, which I managed to do without choking up too much, and he expressed his sympathies.  Then he wanted to make sure I knew that they do not charge any fees for children's services and we would only need to worry about arrangements for a plot and burial.  He let me know that he would be praying for us, and since he is also the pastor of a nearby church, he would be asking his congregation to lift us up in prayer also.

There have been only a few times lately when I have been so overwhelmed that I can't make it through a conversation without tears, but this was one of them.  To hear the compassion and genuine sadness in his voice for the loss of our child and to know that they are so sincere that they would donate their services to bereaved parents, I couldn't help but be overwhelmed. 

We have an appointment set for ten days from now - sooner would probably have been better but with three different schedules to consider, it will be soon enough.  The plus side is that it gives us a more focused timeline for finally making some of the decisions that we've been putting off.  I know that I'll feel better once we finally have a plan in place, but actually working toward planning a funeral service for your child is heart-wrenching.

There are so many questions, so many details to put into place and you want things to be just right, but what does that even mean?  This isn't the way things are supposed to be.  Funerals are supposed to be for your 92 year old grandma - someone with a favorite song or flower or poem.  Someone who has had an entire lifetime for you to remember.  You are supposed to be able to tell stories about all the sweet, crazy, funny things she's done in her 92 years.  You aren't supposed to have to bury a baby who barely even got a start at life.  You aren't supposed to have to bury your children at all...this isn't the way it's supposed to work.