Today we came to Idaho so we can spend some time with Tom’s mom for the holidays. We’d thought to come up for Christmas, but not knowing how we’d feel (because it really does fluctuate so much right now) we figured we’d stay home and enjoy that time with our little family and instead come up this week to celebrate the new year.
We decided to stop by the cemetery as soon as we arrived into town. It was a pretty chilly afternoon so we left the babies in the warm car and we got out for just a minute. With the weather being so cold recently and the grass being so frozen, you could still see the tire tracks from the trucks that had been used to dig and then re-place the ground over our angel boy’s grave. It broke our hearts a little to see the tire tracks for some reason, maybe because it made it all feel so fresh in our minds again.
As we walked over to where Benny’s little body was buried, I couldn’t help but think of the last time we were here, which was for his graveside service. It feels like it was yesterday but also somehow like it was a lifetime ago. Goodness, so much seems to have changed since then.
That day was especially hard – I think that probably goes without saying. You never think as a parent that you’ll have to bury your child, but there we were. The day was so emotional. The babies had been acting up way more than usual as we drove from Utah to Burley, and both Tom and I were weighed down with the heaviness of the emotions associated with having to bury our sweet boy’s body. It all just felt like so much and our hearts felt so deeply and painfully broken. We really appreciated the support of the friends and family who came to the graveside service, and somehow we made it through. It was actually a beautifully sunny day, and the sunshine felt like a little tender mercy that reminded us of our Benny’s light and goodness.
Tom and I stayed at the cemetery for a few minutes after the graveside service ended and everyone else had left. It was nice to have those moments together and quietly say our final goodbyes. As I knelt next to our angel boy’s casket, I told him I missed him and that I was sorry I had to leave him. He then reminded me that he was coming home with us, and I felt such peace. Even though we were leaving his little body to rest in the ground, his bright and beaming spirit was coming home with us. Nothing could have soothed my broken heart more.
As Tom and I walked over to where our car was parked, we noticed the cemetery workers who had been waiting to finish the burial. They came over as soon as we were a good distance away (which was kind of them to patiently wait until we were done) and started their work. They were as respectful as possible, but within probably a minute, they lowered our little boy into the ground and started to replace the dirt and ground over him. And just like that, our precious little Benny was officially buried and gone.
It was actually kind of harrowing for me and such sudden closure to everything that had happened. As we watched, Tom said he was grateful we’d seen that because it helped him process this final step of things in his mind. I couldn’t have felt more different and wondered for a minute if we’d seen the same thing. Seeing Benny lowered into the ground broke my heart even more than I thought was possible. I wished I could un-see what I’d seen. It just hurt so much. I wasn’t sure why, but it did. But then I remembered the feelings I’d had just a few moments before, where my angel boy was reassuring me he was coming home with us. We weren’t leaving him – he was very much coming home with us. It was just what I needed to be able to leave and move forward with the rest of our lives. Sometimes I wish we’d been able to stay there forever. Though I guess if I was wishing for things, I’d wish Benny was still with us physically. Since he’s not though, I’ll take the peaceful reassurances that he keeps sending that he’s well and still very much with us in every other way.
The evening of the graveside service, we decided to head back home. We’d thought to maybe stay overnight in Burley, but being at grandma’s house felt too painful since we remembered being there with Benny just two weeks before. It was sad for us to be there again and remember his happy little smile and the memories we’d made and realize that his sweet little presence would no longer be filling grandma’s home. The pain was just so real so we decided it was best for us to head home. (Thankfully we’re having a very different experience this time and it’s no longer painful to be here.)
As we drove out of town that night, we decided to stop by the cemetery and say one final goodbye to our angel boy. Well, at least to his little body. The sun had set and it was cold. So, so cold. The sunshine of earlier was gone and it felt so dark. We kept the kids in the warm car and took turns walking over to where Benny was buried. Sure enough, as we’d seen earlier, the ground was nearly entirely replaced and our little boy was gone. The funeral sprays were there, along with the red roses we’d laid on his casket, but otherwise you wouldn’t have even known we’d laid him to rest that day. And it made my mama heart hurt.
As I stood there in the freezing weather, I felt such a deep pain in my heart as I worried that my angel boy was cold. I realize now—and I realized then—how nonsensical that was, but I couldn’t get past the feeling. It was so bitterly cold and I worried about him being out all night in the frigid air. I also worried about him being lonely. Lonely and cold. How could a mama leave her son like that? The tears started to come and I couldn’t control the sadness I was feeling. I stayed for another minute but then got back in the car so Tom could step outside. When he got back in the car, he said he was glad we’d stopped by one final time because it gave him the closure he needed for us to go home and move forward. Um, again I sat wondering if we’d just experienced the same thing! My heart felt even more broken than before, but his had somehow been mended. For some reason, that made mine hurt even more.
We drove home in silence because there just weren’t words for those moments. But as we drove, I went back to the thoughts I’d had earlier and I felt my little angel boy assure me that he wasn’t cold and that he was doing fine – and that he was coming home with us. My heart still hurt, but that knowledge took away the sting. I believed it. I wanted to believe it. I wasn’t sure I could make it through without believing it.
And so we drove home. And somehow started to move forward.
And now we’re here. Six weeks to the day since we lost our angel boy. The pain is still there, but we’re coping now. We’re even somehow finding joy again. And today we found ourselves back in Idaho at our little boy’s grave.
Today as we stopped it was a much different experience though. It’s amazing what six weeks can do. On the day we buried Benny, I couldn’t have predicted where we’d be today. There were times when I probably doubted if we’d even make it. But we’re here and overall we’re doing well. I’m so grateful for the healing we’ve felt and that I know we’ll continue to feel as we trust in the Lord and in His plan for our Benny and for us.
The air was still cold today (maybe even colder than that day in November), but I didn’t worry about Benny being cold because I knew he wasn’t there – because I’ve felt him with us every day for the last six weeks. I felt him reassure me that his body was resting peacefully and that it did everything he needed it to do. He also reassured me that his spirit would continue to be with me and our family in every way we needed. So I don’t need to worry about my boy – he’s right where he needs to be, doing what he needs to do, and continuing to bring light to everyone who knew him. Including his mama.
As we left the cemetery tonight, the sun was setting and it cast a beautiful glow through the sky and over the ground. I love a good sunset and tonight was no exception.
The beauty and light made me think of my sweet boy, and the sunset reminded me that even though this day was over and the light would be gone for a bit, morning would come and the light would return. I believe the same thing when it comes to my angel boy. His light may be physically gone for a bit, but soon enough morning will come and we’ll be reunited eternally in a way that will be light-filled forever.
This post has me crying. My friend’s sister died when she was 7, and she remembers her mom going to the cemetery at night and laying on her daughter’s grave because she didn’t want her to be cold. So heartbreaking. I love that you were not as sad going to his grave on this trip. So thankful that you have felt Benny with you. I cannot imagine watching my child be buried. It just rips my heart out thinking about it. Your feelings watching that happen are so valid. And so are Tom’s feelings. So much love to you all.