Letting go...and remembering

A few weeks ago I wrote about Johnny's funeral ceremony and now I will share a few thoughts and memories about the burial that followed. The day continues to be very significant for us and I believe always will be. Our plan for the burial was a very simple ceremony, with meaning and significance, as we said one last goodbye to Johnny.

We arrived at the cemetery late, maybe around 1:15 or 1:30 pm. I think we may have been one of the last vehicles there except for my parents who were following us. There was no formal processional so many had arrived before us and were waiting patiently. Back at the church, before we departed, we had a little delay with Juliana.....she needed to go to the bathroom, or at least she thought she did. We were in the toddler Sunday school room, trying to use the special bathroom for the toddlers. Here we were with a squirrely little toddler girl, laughing and giggling, as we tried to help her take care of things. The episode was in stark contrast to the ceremony with Johnny that had just concluded maybe 90 minutes earlier. We didn't mind, it was okay, almost fitting for the occasion. Through everything, Juliana has never let us forget that we are still parents and that we are thankful to continue to experience the joy of children. She gave us a little break of laughter on a day filled with tears and sadness. We are so thankful we have her with us.

After we finally had Juliana loaded in the care, we drove to the cemetery. We turned in to the main entrance off Larpenteur Avenue. Vehicles of family and friends were lined up near the chapel, with the black sedan of the funeral director in the lead. He moved up his sedan and we fell in place with the family van directly behind him. Others followed as we slowly made our way up the cemetery road to the grave site.

Shortly after we were moving down the cemetery road, Juliana, in an excited voice said, “All the pictures at the celebration had Johnny in them!” She was referring to the photographs we had shown as a slide show at the end of the ceremony while the “Hallelujah” song had played. Lea and I looked at each other and smiled a little…..once again the awareness of our little Juliana to everything that was going on amazed me. I recall asking her something about if she liked the photos, and she said she did.

We arrived at the grave site and pulled off to the side of the road. I remember the ash tree nearby was providing a near perfect area of shade for the grave site. I remember thinking that it was a beautiful day. The air was clear, bright blue sky, nice sunshine, warm, but with a nice light breeze blowing. It could not have been a much more beautiful day.

We were so glad to have found the site we chose for Johnny. It was nice, up on a hill, near the north side of the cemetery. There are three crab apple trees close by that will look beautiful in the spring, just like the crab apple tree we have in our front yard. A row of lilac bushes extends along the property line of the cemetery, not far from where Johnny is. The ash tree is nice and will provide some welcome shade in the summer months to keep the grass a little greener. There is a water spigot very close that we can use to water the arrangement of flowers we have there.

Everyone got out of their cars and moved toward the grave site. They had arranged a large square of green outdoor carpeting up and over the mound of dirt and across the grave. There was a little raised up area under the green carpeting, like a platform, for the casket. After everyone had gathered around, I walked with Jim, our funeral director, over to his sedan to get Johnny. He first took out the roses that we had used at the ceremony as a symbol of our family, and laid them down near the platform area where the casket would go. Then he carefully lifted the casket out and placed it in my arms. The two baby blankets, one with little sailboats and whales, the other one the baby blue blanket my mom had knitted, were laying across the casket.
It was a short walk with Johnny from the sedan over to the grave. I carefully placed him down on the raised platform, made sure he was in the right direction, and adjusted his blankets. Everyone gathered around a little closer. Lea was on my right side, holding Juliana. Having him back in front of us brought back the waves of emotion that had subsided a little since the ceremony earlier that morning.

Sid, one of our pastors, opened the service by saying a few words about the significance of the day and why we were there. At some point Juliana got a little impatient and wanted to get down out of Lea’s arms, and upon doing so walked over to one of her aunts to be held. Lea and I remained side by side, holding hands.

When Sid was finished, Alice, our pastor for Children’s Ministries, asked everyone to gather around and hold hands in a circle. She then led us in a prayer. I was holding hands with a friend named Heidi on my left. Lea was on my right. Not long after we had started, I felt a little hand on mine and looked down to see Juliana. She had gotten down out of her aunts arms and wanted to be between mommy and daddy. She smiled up at me as we each took her hand and had her between us.

Alice finished the prayer. It was time to lower Johnny into the grave.

Earlier in the week, I had talked to the cemetery grounds keepers and our funeral director about the burial service and how I wanted to be the one to place Johnny in the grave. My thinking was the same as the funeral service and carrying him in and out of the ceremony. How could I let anyone else do it? It was the last time I would hold Johnny’s physical presence. The last time to feel his weight in my arms and hands. The last chance to physically care for him in a small way. I had asked how deep the grave would be. Four feet they told me, cut in the outline of a rectangle, large enough to accommodate the dimensions of the casket. Four feet seemed like a long way down to place something at the bottom. I asked about using anything to lower him in, they told me they didn’t use anything, that I would be okay. I just couldn't imagine letting the grounds keepers do it while we stood by.

We paused for a brief moment, after Alice was done with the prayer. When it was time, I looked at Lea and asked if she was ready. She gave me a small nod. I looked at Jim to let him know we were ready.

I remember taking off the jacket of my black suit and handing it to Lea. Then I tucked the lower end of the baby blue silk tie I was wearing into a gap between the buttons of my pressed white shirt. I hadn’t thought about doing this but it just came naturally. Looking back now it seems so fitting. I was about to do a little labor to care for our son so I was getting ready, just like I always did. Coming home from work, I would often change out of my nicer clothes before holding Johnny. You quickly learn, as I did with Juliana and again with Johnny, that babies don’t care what you are wearing and often create all sorts of accidents so you might as well be ready. When Johnny was in the hospital, I would wear older shirts when we were there knowing that we would be holding him and that it was important to be comfortable and have something on that could be sacrificed due to a little mishap. If I had a suit or jacket on, and came home from work to see Johnny, I wouldn’t have picked him up with my jacket on. I would have taken it off, just like at this moment, to hold him close.

After removing my jacket and fixing my tie, I leaned over and picked up the little blankets on Johnny’s casket, and handed them to Lea. I picked up Johnny, and held him in my arms, as Jim and the cemetery workers pulled back the green carpet to expose the grave. Jim carefully placed a section of the green carpet across the front side of the grave so I would have something to kneel on. It was time. I carefully lowered Johnny to the ground in front of the grave, and got down on my knees. I reached out to take hold of each end of the casket, and held each end tightly in my hands. I moved Johnny forward over the grave and began to lower him in. I remember thinking that the grave looked deep. I remember seeing the bright, clean wood of a tree root cut diagonally across the far side of the wall of the grave. As I carefully lowered Johnny down, I could smell the damp, musty odor of the ground, and I had a sense of cooler temperatures as I kept lowering him in, my head and shoulders now leaned into the grave. I remember the feeling of gently touching the bottom, adjusting the casket to be perfectly square with the grave, and then slowly letting go, for the last time, and lifting my arms out of the grave.

I remember just kneeling there for a brief moment, pausing to collect myself and looking at the casket in the grave.

When I stood up, Lea and I put an arm around each other and leaned into each other. We cried and held each other briefly. Then we took the roses that we had brought with us from the funeral and prepared to drop them in the grave on top of the casket. At the funeral earlier that day, the four roses had represented our family. Two rose buds to symbolize our children, two roses in bloom to symbolize Lea and I. Juliana and I now each had one, Lea had two. A friend asked me later what the significance was for placing the roses in the grave at the burial. Here is how I replied:

When Johnny died, our hopes and dreams for him died with him. We know he is in a better place, but our loss is what we have lost by no longer having him with us here on earth. So the flowers represent our shattered dreams, our lost hopes, as individuals and as a family. Jules and her role as a big sister, Lea and I as his parents and all we will not experience that we wanted to with our son. All lost, laid to rest in the grave with Johnny. Beautiful dreams, represented by beautiful flowers.

It’s been a month since the funeral, and the grief over the loss of all that we will not experience with Johnny remains a central part of the pain. Children and babies are so full of life, possibilities, hope, and potential. They aren’t supposed to just leave you one day while they are still so young. We know all the right ways to think about what has happened, but it’s still very difficult. You can know in your mind how to process things and maintain some level of hope, even in such difficult circumstances, but your heart and the feelings you have are another matter.

After we dropped the roses into the grave, we paused again briefly to hold each other and contemplate the moment. The burial ceremony was almost complete. Then I went around to the other side of the small mound of dirt and pulled back a section of the green outdoor carpeting. I found the shovel the grounds keeper had left there and carefully shoveled a scoop of dirt from the mound and then carried it over to the grave and let it fall into the opening, onto the casket. I repeated the same motion again, making it two shovel-full scoops of dirt, one for Lea, one for me, dropped into the grave, as we laid Johnny to rest and said a final good-bye.

I set the shovel down and went back to Lea’s side. We again embraced side by side, arm in arm, and stood there for awhile. Everyone there stood with us, gathered around in clusters in various directions from the grave. I offered a final prayer for Johnny and the service. I can’t remember what I said, maybe something about thanking God for the brief time we had with Johnny, and asking Him to help us through this difficult time. After the prayer, we approached those that had come to the burial to join us. I shook some hands and embraced those that were there, thanking everyone for coming. The service was concluding.

People lingered for awhile, visiting quietly, before slowly starting to depart. There were some last goodbyes to us as people started to leave. After we gave Juliana some good hugs goodbye, my family left with her to bring her home for a nap. Lea spent some time at the grave, kneeling and contemplating our loss. Lea and I stayed until nearly everyone was gone, except for Jim, our funeral director, the groundskeepers, and our friend Tom. Before we left, I shook hands with Jim. He told me the funeral was one of the most beautiful he had ever been a part of. I thanked him for his help and told him I would call him later in the week to go over some last details. Lea and I walked over to the grave one more time before departing. It was hard to leave and to let go.

Finally, we turned and walked over to get into the van, not really knowing where we were going to go. I can’t describe the feelings we had at that moment after experiencing what we had done that day. We knew we didn’t want to be apart, but beyond that, we didn’t know much else. After we drove off, we stopped at a gas station and got some water to drink, then we drove over to a park and found a shady bench to sit down on.

Over the next couple of hours, we talked a lot about how we both felt so lost, without direction, and the void we were experiencing in our lives. Johhathan had required so much of us, and now all of a sudden he was gone. Our life with him was over. The week leading up to the funeral had been intense and filled with countless tasks and details. Now all was concluded, and for the first time, we were experiencing a different kind of loss and emptiness. We sat on the bench for a long time, watching people walking by. We just sat there talking, staying close. Later we drove around, to no where in particular. For a few hours, we did nothing except stay together. For the first time in many months, we were wasting time, just drifting about, doing nothing. And at the same time, it seemed like we were doing what we needed to be doing.

At some point I called home to make sure Juliana was okay. She was sleeping fine, having a nice, quiet nap. After some time, we finally went home. I remember pulling in the drive way, seeing the house, the life we were returning to, and just wondering if we could pick up the pieces and keep moving forward as a family. With God’s help and the help of many, many people, we have been able to do just that. It's not always easy, but we are making progress.

We have been back to the cemetery and grave site many times since that day, to reflect on Johnny, his life, and the impact the last several months has had on us. Johnny’s funeral ceremony and the burial turned out to be many important things for us. It was a time to honor Johnny’s life and all he accomplished, to grieve, to begin to heal, to come together as an extended family and as a community of friends, and for Lea and I a chance to parent him and care for him one last time. For Juliana, she took what she needed from the day to capture some important memories of saying goodbye and remembering her little brother. It was a time to give thanks to God for the blessing of Johnny’s four months with us, and to consider all he gave to us and to his family in that brief time. Today marks the one month anniversary from that day – August 29th.