Not die from life but to die from the pain.

That night I did want to die.  Not to die from life but from the pain.  I wanted to no longer be able to feel.  To this day I can still see that image of my first born child lying in that coffin.  I must keep my mind busy at all times so I don't see that image.  I can be having a conversation with you or cooking dinner or worshipping God and if I am not careful that image comes to mind and world crashes.  But those times are now fewer and farther between.  This year I choose to focus on not where he was but where he is.  I try to focus on the beauty and wonder of God all around him.
But those first few days it was not possible.  Those first few days become a blur.  So many people came and went and I am so thankful for their presence.  Every morning I would get up, put on my makeup and stumble to my couch.  My haven.  The Olympics were on and curling became our fascination.  I would sit again with my eyes closed listening to the announcer while repeating everything in my head so I didn't have to think.  I became fixated on the tv.  It brought normalcy to my life.  Any time the boys or Bart would get out of my sight I would panic.  Several of my friends could see the panic and would rush to my side to tell me where they were.  They were going on about the business of picking pictures, getting clothes ready for the funeral, living life.  I was not ready to move from the couch.  I would fall asleep on the couch because I could hear life around me.  Teenage voices in the night moving around the house, watching tv, eating, laughing.  That is the normal I wanted around me.  To go to bed in the dark with no noise brought too many thoughts.  Thoughts I did not want.  So I stayed sitting on the couch.  Falling asleep with the world going on around me.
The morning of the funeral I lay in bed.  I could feel Bart beside me.  I was trying to cry silently so as not to wake him but he spoke.  He too was lying there silently crying so as not to wake me.  He said we have to get up and get ready for the funeral.  Get ready for the funeral.  So natural to say.  How many funerals have we gone to?  Gotten up and gotten ready as if it were such a normal day.  But while we were getting ready for those funerals did we think there was a momma and daddy lying there in the bed silently crying so as not to wake the other one.  We got o these funerals and we are sad for a moment and then go back to work.  But for the family life does not go on as normal.  Normal will never be the same.  Someday I will find a new normal but it will never be the same.
We dress in silence, eat in silence, hug in silence.  The house begins to fill with family and friends who have come in support and to comfort us as we go to the cemetery. These people are my rock.  These people I know are praying for each one of us.  I sit in the chair surrounded by these people and Bart tells me the cars are here and it is time to go.  I tell him to wait.  Up to this point I could do little. I was not able to even comfort my children.  At this point I have had faith but the pain overtook it.  I was not hopeless just helpless.  There is a big difference.  I knew that pain was mind numbing but I also knew through this all that God was still on His throne and still next to my side.  With 40 people gathered in my living room I needed I had to give that hope on to them.  I needed to let them know this was not the end. Our God is so much bigger than that.  For the non believer this was the end of the road.  But because I and Jacob knew our God died and rose again this was not the end.  It was just the beginning for him.  I would survive and my family would grow stronger because of it.  God had a plan. I didn't like the plan but He had one.
So I asked Bart to wait.  I had something I wanted to share with everyone.  With eyes on me I opened my Bible to Psalms 22

 ^1-2 God, God...my God! Why did you dump me
      miles from nowhere?
   Doubled up with pain, I call to God
      all the day long. No answer. Nothing.
   I keep at it all night, tossing and turning.

 ^3-5 And you! Are you indifferent, above it all,
      leaning back on the cushions of Israel's praise?
   We know you were there for our parents:
      they cried for your help and you gave it;
      they trusted and lived a good life.

 ^6-8 And here I am, a nothing—an earthworm,
      something to step on, to squash.
   Everyone pokes fun at me;
      they make faces at me, they shake their heads:
   "Let's see how God handles this one;
      since God likes him so much, let him help him!"

 ^9-11 And to think you were midwife at my birth,
      setting me at my mother's breasts!
   When I left the womb you cradled me;
      since the moment of birth you've been my God.
   Then you moved far away
      and trouble moved in next door.
   I need a neighbor.

 ^12-13 Herds of bulls come at me,
      the raging bulls stampede,
   Horns lowered, nostrils flaring,
      like a herd of buffalo on the move.

 ^14-15 I'm a bucket kicked over and spilled,
      every joint in my body has been pulled apart.
   My heart is a blob
      of melted wax in my gut.
   I'm dry as a bone,
      my tongue black and swollen.
   They have laid me out for burial
      in the dirt.

 ^16-18 Now packs of wild dogs come at me;
      thugs gang up on me.
   They pin me down hand and foot,
      and lock me in a cage—a bag
   Of bones in a cage, stared at
      by every passerby.
   They take my wallet and the shirt off my back,
      and then throw dice for my clothes.

 ^19-21 You, God—don't put off my rescue!
      Hurry and help me!
   Don't let them cut my throat;
      don't let those mongrels devour me.
   If you don't show up soon,
      I'm done for—gored by the bulls,
      meat for the lions.

 ^22-24 Here's the story I'll tell my friends when they come to worship,
      and punctuate it with Hallelujahs:
   Shout Hallelujah, you God-worshipers;
      give glory, you sons of Jacob;
      adore him, you daughters of Israel.
   He has never let you down,
      never looked the other way
      when you were being kicked around.
   He has never wandered off to do his own thing;
      he has been right there, listening.

 ^25-26 Here in this great gathering for worship
      I have discovered this praise-life.
   And I'll do what I promised right here
      in front of the God-worshipers.
   Down-and-outers sit at God's table
      and eat their fill.
   Everyone on the hunt for God
      is here, praising him.
   "Live it up, from head to toe.
      Don't ever quit!"

 ^27-28 From the four corners of the earth
      people are coming to their senses,
      are running back to God.
   Long-lost families
      are falling on their faces before him.
   God has taken charge;
      from now on he has the last word.

 ²⁹ All the power-mongers are before him
      —worshiping!
   All the poor and powerless, too
      —worshiping!
   Along with those who never got it together
      —worshiping!

 ^30-31 Our children and their children
      will get in on this
   As the word is passed along
      from parent to child.
   Babies not yet conceived
      will hear the good news—
      that God does what he says.

Normally people read 23 Psalms.  But God gave that chapter to me that morning and I just felt strength from it. I felt God had abandoned me but I knew and still know He was there and will be victorious even over death.   We prayed and everyone went to their cars.
Many years ago I went to a funeral of a friend where they had a private burial for the family and then the service.  I liked that idea.  The cemetery is the hardest part I think and is very private.  Then the service becomes a celebration of their life.  The casket is not there to be a reminder of the body but all emphasizes on where they are not on the empty shell.  So we drove to the cemetery. I use to work across from the cemetery and drove past it often in our small town.  My father had been buried there 6 months ago.  I came often to visit his grave sight but now it would hold a whole different meaning for me.
The beautiful wooden casket was already loaded on the lowering frame. The flowers looked so pretty.  Our family and a few close friends gathered around.  To be honest I don't remember a word said at that part of the service.  I just remember sitting there with my family held close and looking at the casket.  I remember praying for God to just surround us so we could get through this.  And God did. The service was over and it was time to leave.  How do you say good bye to your son and let them lower him into the ground?
I remember when the boys were all little.  Nanna Ruth had died and we just had graveside services.  The boys were enthralled.  They wanted to stay and watch as they lowered the casket into the ground.  Normally this is done after the family leaves but we had four little boys wanting to watch this happen so we did.  They were fascinated.  That morning the thought came to me and put a little smile on my face thinking about it.  Small children deal with death so much differently than we do.  I remember the first time I took Jacob to a funeral home.  We went as a family to view the body.  I can't remember if it was Nanna Ruth or possibly Bart's father, Dale.  It was a somber moment.  We walked in and I had tried to prepare Jacob for what he would see.  He had asked to go.  He walked right over to the casket and touched the body.  He yelled, "Hey, mom.  Come here and touch her/his hand.  Feel this.  Wow."  I didn't want to touch the body.  He was insistent.  I finally had to move him away so he would  quit telling me to feel it.  Children are very resilient.  It is we adults who have a more difficult time accepting it.
So as we sat there I remember those times and his fascination and wonder  But I still didn't want to say goodbye. It is so final.  I put my hand on the casket and wept.  I told my sweet boy I loved him and walked away.