The visit

Chase is buried in a cemetery 7 hours away, so we don't get to visit his grave but once a year.  This makes the visit all the more painful and momentous.  It's not something we do every day and get used to.  Though I don't think anyone can ever get used to visiting their child's gravesite.

We had a very short window of opportunity for this trip as Reese has had baseball games nearly every other day or two this past week/weekend.  So we got to the cemetery Sunday.  It was a very different feeling traveling this time.  First and foremost, I had my baby in the car seat this time.  The car seat that for so long, hadn't been used.  I remembered two years prior, instead of that car seat, we had a casket in our Sequoia.  A casket with the body of one of our children.  That was a feeling that nearly sent me over the edge.  I couldn't think about it during that 7 hour drive, or I could feel myself losing my mind.  But it was hard not to.  I thank Chase for carrying me through those days mostly.  Giving me the grace to handle all of that.  It hurts to remember...it always will.  

I remember buying flowers last year to take to the grave.  We all agreed on an arrangement and I remember wondering if the checker would ever guess in a million years what we were buying these flowers for as she commented on how pretty they were.  This year, they each picked out their own arrangement, and I still wondered....and it still hurts.  I will never get used to that feeling.  And I still feel like teetering on the edge of sanity when I buy those flowers for my sweet boy.  It's a very surreal feeling.

Owen slept nearly the entire three hour drive Sunday morning to the cemetery.  Leaving me to myself for the ride....again, remembering last year and the sadness of the drive.  Having my rainbow in my arms this year definitely helped me, somewhat through distracting me, somewhat as a physical comfort.  When we got to the cemetery, I woke him up because I wanted to take pictures.   And he cried.  The entire stay.  It was terribly windy outside and I know he didn't like it.  But it really infringed on our visit.  We all had our time at the grave and said our prayers and did what we needed to do.  But with Owen crying, it certainly wasn't as peaceful as the trip was last year.  To make matters worse, I looked up in the sky and found not a single cloud.  I looked all around me....searching.....but I didn't see him.  I didn't feel him.  As hard as I tried, I felt so abandoned.  I couldn't find any sign of my baby boy.   I felt guilty having Owen in my arms.... and I couldn't comfort Owen at all, either.  So I didn't get to be alone with Patric much at all.  Everything was just all wrong.  My other kids looked so grown up next his grave this year.  They were so little when I remember them at the burial.  It makes me so sad to see them sad and to know how their brother's death has changed them.  It was time to leave and of course Owen calms down right away.  But I was so sad because I couldn't feel Chase around me.  I wondered if God was mad at me and wasn't going to let me feel my baby's presence anymore.   This made me more sad.

After a while of silence in the car and once the kids started watching their movie again, I told Patric how I felt, all the while crying.  I mean, why would I expect to feel Chase there at his grave, 7 hours away from where he always is.  He's with us everywhere we go every day.  Why do we need to go all this way to visit him on his birthday/death day?  Of course, how could we not visit his grave is also the question.  I was so confused....and then....all of a sudden Patric turned up the radio.  And we heard it.  Sarah was singing Angel.   And I felt him.  It was like Chase was telling me at that moment, "It's okay, Mom.  You're exactly right, I'm not there at that cemetery.  That's just my body.  I'm with you guys all the time.  See, I'm right here."  And for as long as the song played, I closed my eyes and felt my baby boy.  Thankful for his presence.  And after that I was okay.  Because I knew he wanted me to be okay.  

As a babyloss mom, we are always searching for signs.  Some may call them coincidences or just luck.  But as a babyloss mom, I'll take what I can get.  And I got it yesterday.....I miss you baby boy.  I will never stop loving you and I will never stop thinking of you.  Sweet dreams, little man.  Godspeed.

A Cemetery

I stopped by the cemetery that we are considering moving Chase to today.  My friend's son is buried there and I wanted to visit his grave.  She lost her son just after his birthday in 2007.  He died the 13th of April and Chase was born the 14th of April.  I feel a connection there, not only because I knew her son, but also because of the dates being so close to Chase's death and birth date.  Her son's birthday is just 6 days before his death date, 23 years later.  Chase died just 4 days after his birthday.  She has reached out to me and provided comfort to me like only mothers who have lost children can.  For that I am grateful.

I saw a grave of an infant, died in 2007.  It tears me up to see graves like that with all sorts of little toy trucks and airplanes and helicopters so curiously laid upon it.  I wish I could visit Chase's grave and share toys with him in this way, too.  Reese has a handful that he has saved just for his little brother.  I long to visit the gravesite of my son, to see his name in stone, to see our names right with his, as close as we can get in this human life of ours.  I looked around the cemetery and felt it would be a nice place to keep his "box", as we call it.  When I asked the kids the other day if they thought it was a good idea to move Chase to this cemetery, they said yes.  Actually Reese said, "no mom I want him at my house! Please?  Can we have him at our house?"  I explained the purpose of this cemetery and I think they all understood.  The fact that we may or may not be living in Ruidoso makes our decision to disinter him more complicated.  But, again, I looked around the cemetery and it felt "right".  Twelve years ago, Patric and I were married about 15 minutes down the highway.  Three of our children were born here.  Whether or not we live here in 5 years doesn't mean we won't ever be back.  We have several reasons to come back here, several concrete reasons, and one of them is his grandparents.  I would have the comforting feeling that his grandparents will always be here.  They will never move so they will always be close, and I know his G would love that.  These thoughts make this decision a little bit easier.  If that is ever possible.

I'm writing these thoughts down because I want it be known that when your child dies, cemeteries and grave sites are not something that you had ever thought about before.  Choosing a place to keep your child for the rest of time as you know it, is really an impossible choice.  There is no way of knowing the right answer.  Because, as our funeral home director pointed out to us, where we bury him, is where we will want to be buried essentially, so we may as well purchase 3 lots instead of 1.  See?  Things you never thought about, right?  Who would have known that when you give birth, days later you will be deciding where you want to be buried when you eventually die 50 years later.  Cremation was, for us, not something for considering on the spot but choosing which cemetery seemed preposterous to decide.  

The first year I was only consumed with having his grave stone ordered and in hand.  Then when it came time to lay the stone, we felt the permanence of this deed and wanted to do something about the fact that we wanted Chase closer to us.  Once we decided to do this and talked to the funeral director to find out if it can even be done, only to learn that there is even a word for it, then we had to pick where.  The cemetery I visited today was our pick, until we started to consider the facts--that our family would not forever reside in Ruidoso.  We weren't convinced that we would be raising our family here and did not want to move Chase again when we decided we were leaving.  And so here we are.  His stone sits in the garage at the funeral home across the street.  And his "box" is still 6 hours away.

So these are my thoughts today.  I hope to close this chapter soon, though I won't ever know when that will be until it actually happens.  I would rather think of my son as I saw him in the hospital isolette and those days when he fought for his life.  I would rather remember him as best I can than think of the cemetery where his box will forever remain.  But this is life as best as we can understand.  I was searching on old (really old) computer CDs the other day and found this saying that gave me chills.  I have no idea why it was on my computer years ago.  Here it is....

It is a deep mystery, This matter of Life and Death.

That the same person who brought us a thousand joys, can one day leave us shedding a thousand tears.

So suddenly, sometimes we grope blindly for words left unspoken, and for the hug we needed to give, to say goodbye.

And we wonder, how this thread holds us all to life can be so thin and fragile.. 

Until one day we find the faith and courage to accept, that the living aren’t meant to understand death, only to accept and celebrate life, and to remember that the only real death is forgetting.

Visiting Chase's Grave

We visited Chase's grave this week. It was a six hour drive returning to a place that would remind us so acutely of a time of deep pain and anguish. The weather was grey and gloomy the entire trip and even if we wanted to, we would not be able to set the monument for Chase. The sancrete would never have dried with the constant drizzle. We paid our respects regardless and arranged and re-arranged the flowers we had brought for him, from us and both his grandmas. As if we were "fixing" them for him, like a parent always feels we must do. Something to busy our hands, I guess. The rain was persistent, but not obtrusive. We were able to have a good visit, if that is possible. For a moment, maybe two minutes, while Patric and I were alone at his grave and the kids were in the car, the sun poked through the clouds. It was so magical how this happened. I wish I would have pointed my camera up and just snapped a shot, in hopes that I might have deciphered something later that I couldn't comprehend in that moment. If ever I have felt it, though, it was Chase speaking to us. Looking down on us tell us he was okay.

Patric and I have had several deep conversations lately about him and where we each think he is or what he is or just what we think period. And in those conversations I have been comforted in a way only my soulmate could comfort me. It turns out that we have both been feeling Chase's presence in and around us. There have been specific moments and specific feelings, however indescribable they are, that we have communicated to each other and felt the same thing.

We are not on the same path in our journey as we were in the beginning. Patric is seeking different things that I am right now. He is comforted in different ways than I am. We feel very much the same on a lot of things, and we are both searching, but searching for different answers and different explanations. I had received several texts and emails and cards and even some packages in the mail leading up to and on Chase's birthday. My sisters, in particular, sent me some very, very touching gifts that mean so very much to me and remind me how exactly my little boy touched their lives as well. Friends of ours from all over the country sent texts, to my phone, letting us know that we were in their thoughts and offering any help that me might need to get through this last week. It wasn't until we were in bed Wednesday night laying, waiting, to fall asleep, that I realized that Patric hadn't personally received any of these things that I had. No texts, no emails, no phone calls, no package. Nothing. Nothing specifically directed to him. I know he didn't expect this, he's really not the type to even want something on an occasion like this. It is comforting to him to see that I have family and friends in my life that care enough to do this for me. But as his wife, I want to just cover him up with love from me and the kids...in hopes that he feels just as loved as we do. I know men grieve differently and have different needs in grief but it doesn't stop me from wanting to protect his feelings with some sort of force field of love from us to try to equal that which I feel. The truth is I know he has more of that from us than he ever bargained for and that's really all he will ever need. But in a time of such pain and suffering I want to make it better for him when I can't.

Returning to Chase's grave this week stirred up a lot of emotions I hadn't felt for a long time. The pain felt raw and the wound felt very fresh. It did for all of us, you could see it, hear it, and feel it from the girls as they cried from their bellies, quivering from their sobs, missing their baby brother so dearly. My anger came back. I became very mad again, like it had all just happened, recalling in my head how the events throughout those days transpired, wishing things had been done differently. So desperately wishing I had done something when I knew I should.

But this visit was about Chase and thinking about him. And I have been working on/thinking about this a lot lately....my vision of my sweet baby boy. God how I miss you sweet Chase. I can't begin to tell you how much. But I want you to have fun up there...and enjoy this birthday and all those to come...and one day, we will all be together again. I love you.

9 months

Today you would be nine months old. Wow. The older I get, the faster time travels. Though part of time stopped when you left us, the other part keeps on. It has gotten a little easier to live, but the pain has not lessened. It hurts to breathe some days. Somedays we talk about you and smile, though inside, we are crying with a broken heart.

I still do not have your head stone. It's something I have thought about almost as often as I think about you. You are buried 6 hours away from us and though I'm not sure, nor will I ever be, that was the right thing to do, I know "Top" is hangin' out with you, teaching you the things I can't. (Please let them be good, Top!) Today I found "you". I have only been to Bangs twice, once to bury your great grandfather and the other to lay you to rest, so my memory of the cemetery is faded. But today I found the cemetery and I cried. The internet is a place of endless resource, but never did I expect I would need it like I do now. For the reason I do now. The cemetery really is pretty. Just like I hoped it would be. It just feels so far away. But I "fixed" up your virtual memorial the moment I found it, first by taking charge of your name, then I started putting things in place. I plan to add to it. I plan to check in on it often, since I can't visit your marker in person. And soon, very soon, I will get your stone and your daddy will put it in place. We have talked about it quite a bit and I have something in mind. I wish you were here. Obviously I wish you were here, but I wish we buried you closer so I could visit you more often. I have felt lost since the day you left, but part of it is because we buried you so far away. We found comfort in knowing Grandad would be taking care of you and spending a lot of time with you, for us. We just didn't know what we were supposed to do.

So on your 9-month birthday, know how much we miss you. Know how much we care about you. Know how much a part of our lives you are. Sweet dreams little man. Sweet dreams.

love,

Conversations with a 4-year-old...

Reese and I picked up a little buddy of his for a play date today (read: so mommy can get some work done) and as we incidentally drove by the only cemetary in town, he told his friend, "that's where they bury people who die." I don't know why, other than for conversation and he was so excited for his play date, Reese brought this up. We drove by the cemetery at least two more times throughout the day and our on our final trip home, and again seeing the cemetery, our conversation went something like this...

Reese: Mom, does God have a TV up there in his house?
Mom: Hmmm. I don't know buddy. Do you think he does? I think there are better things than TV up there.
Reese: Mom, what does God look like?
Mom: Do you remember the picture on the program for Chase's funeral?
Reese: No. Does he look like a ghost?
Mom: You mean like you can see through him?
Reese: Yeah.
Mom: I don't know, buddy. Everyone has their own idea of what God looks like. I think he looks like a normal person though, but extra kind, very gentle. Just a really nice person I guess.
Reese: Mom, are we gonna go to Heaven?
Mom: You mean like for a little while...or forever?
Reese: Yeah.
Mom: Well, babe, everyone goes to Heaven. But I don't think you have to think about that for a long time. Not 'til you get older, a lot older.
Reese: Mom, can we see Chasey?
Mom: I wish we could, buddy......I miss him. A lot. What would you do if you saw Chase?
Reese: (Quiet.)
Mom: Would you give him a hug....and then ask him if he wanted to race?
Reese: Yeah, I would.

Oh, man. How it hurts to talk about this. I can't believe this is Reese's "normal". I hate that he has to grow up like this. I have really felt the affect on Reese's life in particular lately. How big of an impact Chase would have on Reese. I think about it or talk about it to Patric every day. This is the first time Reese has ever been home with us alone. It started out special--just time with us. But after that has worn off, it has been just torture. I know he loves to be home with us. But he misses his sisters, who were home with him last year. Then before that, Emma was home being homeschooled by herself; before that, Karly was home and played with him all the time. This has been something completely new for me, having just one kid to tend to. And he doesn't like having to "wait" for me to get to him. I hate getting frustrated with his begging to play, do this, do that. But I do. And I know Chase would have made things so different. For all of us. It's hard to imagine the impact another child is going to put on your life. But it's agonizing to have to live with their absence. To say we miss him does not do it justice.