I do believe I just finished doing the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.
I did not want to do this. I tried to talk myself out of it numerous times. I had plenty of real good reasons not to go. I had two friends who stood with me and motivated me. They would have come with me if they weren’t hundreds of miles away. My husband called three times to make sure I was doing okay. I realized I had a choice; I could try to do this alone, all by myself, Or, I could ask my Dad in spirit to come with me. I chose the latter. I figured since a child was involved, he would be more than happy to drop whatever he was doing and help me out.
All I had to do was be open to him. What I did was still not easy to do, but it was doable when I felt my Dad was with me!!!!
My Aunt received my first hug of the night. She was with me in the funeral line when I heard and saw her begin to sob. I didn’t even think that I stunk of coffee and cigarettes. I grabbed her and gave her a big ole tight bear hug. I felt her hands on my back. I believe in clown language that patting the back means the hug is over. I wish I remembered what rubbing the back meant. In an up and down motion, not circular. My Aunt then approached the deceased child’s body without me. Some how she moved forward toward my wicked spiritual Aunt. Who knows? Maybe she needed me for the hug and her sister for more strength than I had to offer. My next thought was maybe she moved up because I reeked of cigarettes and coffee?
I gave real tight hugs today. The best kind. I didn‘t want to let this family go. My Aunt and Uncle got 2 hugs each. I got chuckles from all the male gender in the family, smiles from the 2 daughters, and tears from the 2 Moms of the group. A solid family. I had no intention of making anyone laugh or smile. There was Nothing to say to this family. I let my heart speak. My family is strong. This was a very short life we lost. We are strong. The child was strong. He will be stronger now. We will always celebrate this young man’s life and spirit. His spirit lives on and we know it.
The first opportunity I had, I left. I did whatever it was I was supposed to do and I left.
I got the 3rd degree from the beagle when I got home. He was mad at first. Apparently he spent the last half hour baying at the empty driveway. He followed me around the house until I realized why. I smelled. I did not smell like another dog, but I did have a distinct smell. All those tight hugs, of course I smelled different. Even a paltry difference no beagle can pass up. I squatted down and let him sniff away. Funny!!!! I did not know I could still squat.