You become a hysterical mess of tears and snot when you first learn of the death; and your heart physically feels like it is breaking into a million little pieces. Then you begin to come down from the inner (and outer) hysteria, and you enter this catatonic state of numbness where you almost don't know what is going on around you. The world continues to move forward as you feel paralyzed, unprepared of what this new journey will lead you through.
You go through the motions of dealing with the funeral home and director. Picking out caskets or urns, debating what color schemes to use and what register book you feel best captures your loved one's spirit. You go home and become over whelmed with everything that needs to get done before the funeral.
Photo albums and pictures, so many pictures and memorabilia. You smile at the memories that they invoke, and then you break down into a flood of tears because it is now just sinking in that you will never see this person again.
You pick out what clothing you will be giving to the funeral director so that your loved one is properly dressed for their big day. All the while filtering all these calls that come rushing in, all these people reaching out to give their condolences. You still feel stuck in one place as the world buzzes around you.
The day of the visitation you arrive early even though you think you'll be late. The director shows you to the room and you hesitate to enter, knowing what lies behind the doors. Slowly you put one foot in front of the other as you take a deep breath. "You can do this," you keep telling yourself, "just remember to breathe".
You walk inside the room and take everything in, carefully avoiding looking at the open casket as you slowly approach it. Finally your loved one is before you and you look down. You see how peaceful they look, almost like they are sleeping, but you notice a few things are off. Like the color of the nails, or the shade of lipstick, just subtle reminders that your loved one is in fact not sleeping, not breathing.
Tears form and fall down your face and a shudder rips through you. Family and friends form a procession and file past you, giving hugs and sympathetic glances your way. For the life of you, you can not remember the name of your second cousins' wife, but you greet her as warmly as you can and thank her for coming.
The visitation comes to an end and you gather your belongings and head back home, knowing that sleep will not come tonight.
The morning of the funeral feels like you are blitzing through everything, praying that you do not forget anything before you head to the church. You arrive just in time, another hour of visitation and the procession begins. You line up with your family behind the casket and watch as the funeral directors slowly and carefully close the casket. This is the last time you will ever see your loved one. In a small dull voice in the back of your head you catch yourself saying, "This is real. This is really happening."
You slowly walk behind the casket as it makes its way up the isle to the front of the church. Taking your seat on the hard wooden pew, you try to catch up to where the congregation is singing. The priest says some words, and you sing Amazing Grace. You almost lose it, you try to sing but your voice keeps breaking. A family member goes up and gives their eulogy, and as the casket is lead out to the hearse "How Great Thou Art" is being sung and what you were holding back breaks through your cracking resolve.
The pallbearers surround the casket and load it into the back of the hearse. Walking back to your car, you see a small funeral flag attached to your hood, notifying everyone who sees it, of your small little tragedy.
Following the hearse, you traverse through city streets until you reach the cemetery, along the way making small talk with your passengers about how lovely the service was. The mound of dirt beside the open grave is poorly hidden under the fake grass carpeting. You notice that there is an honor guard present at the grave site.
As the casket is taken out by the pallbearers, the funeral director tells them how place it onto to the lowering device. The priest says the general graveside ceremony and the person with the trumpet begins to play Taps. All the while the honor guard folds the American flag and does the three rifle volley.
The tears that were softly falling are now gushing from your eyes at the beautiful significance of this ceremony. Your beloved fought to keep our country free and safe, and your heart swells with pride. You grab one of the shell casings to keep and return back to your car.
People return to the church for the luncheon that the church ladies have prepared. Over a plate full of various casseroles and questionable Jell-O concoctions you share fond memories of the person that is currently being lowered six feet into the ground.
Eventually you leave and go back home, exhausted and feeling hollow. Sleep comes surprisingly easy and as the days go by you start to breathe a little bit easier, and cry a little less frequently. There is of course the random bouts of crying that over come you regarding the silliest of things. Who knew that a certain brand of pizza would invoke such an emotional response from you.
Weeks turn into months, and months into years. You are now fairly well adjusted to life without your departed loved one. Every once in a while a random thought will come to you in regards to your departed. You will smile a sad smile, knowing that they are gone, but thankful for the random memory. It is in those moments that you believe that they are with you, watching over you, still loving you from the other side.
Your heart that was once shattered into a million little pieces is now put back together like a puzzle, but covered in scar tissue. It will continue to beat, until the day you are reunited on the other side.
Until that day, you live your life as best as you can. Wondering if your loved one would have been proud of you and the choices that you have made.
And after a long day at work, you go home and sit down and reflect.
Three years ago today I buried my grandpa. He helped raised me, guided me, and fought for our country. I love you grandpa and miss you every single day. May you forever rest in peace with grandma in Heaven.
Until next time.
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