Godspeed, little man

My son's funeral was today; although there were many, many joys of the day, I think I can honestly say that it's been the worst day of my life.

We only had a graveside service for Andrew, so we had the option to just meet at the cemetery, but I felt that making the drive with him was the thing to do. We met at the funeral home early, and a couple of my closest friends from the Sheriff's Office (Jennifer and Shanon) were there to give us an escort to the cemetary. (It was a bit different than the normal escort we give to the public, because the cemetary that we were going to was outside of our county, and we normally don't do that - but this was a special situation for my department because of us.)

Anyway, we spent a little more time with Andrew at the funeral home, said some private goodbyes, and got ready to leave. When we got on the road, I was flooded with emotion. Every intersection we came to, and I mean each and every one, was filled with City of Milledgeville police cars, Baldwin County Sheriff's Office patrol cars, Georgia State Patrol cars, and Baldwin County Fire Department trucks, each with their lights flashing. Many had their drivers outside, standing at attention, honoring us and my baby boy as we passed. I felt so loved and respected, and Austin was filled with the same emotions. The tears flowed freely from both of us.

It was a long drive to the cemetary, almost an hour. The little kids were tired before we got there, but they handled it well. When we got there, there were cars everywhere, and I had not realized just how many close friends and family would be there. Austin's Air Force family was there showing their concern for us as well. We parked the van, and waited as they unloaded my baby's tiny casket from the car. When things were settled, we got out and got seated. Jonathan and Annah wanted to play, and we didn't stop them from getting up and walking around Andrew's casket during the service.

The bishop did a great job as he talked about eternal families. He read a letter that his wife had written to us, a letter written from Andrew's perspective. It was very lovely and filled me with love and with pain as he read it aloud. His wife later gave us a framed copy of it.

The service was short, but Austin was given a chance to speak briefly, and it was beautiful. We sang "I am a child of God," then Andrew's grave was dedicated by one of our closest family friends. Then it was over. The public part anyway.

We said our goodbyes to everyone, and spoke to the funeral director about what we wanted to do next. After everyone left, we got the CD player out and played "Godspeed (Sweet Dreams)," as we read a book called "On the night you were born" to Andrew. I bought it right after we found out we were pregnant, and it's been sitting there, waiting to be read. Since we'll never have the chance to read it to him in life, I thought it was appropriate to do there, while his spirit was still present with us.

We said our goodbyes to our baby boy, and Austin placed him into his final resting place. Then I put his puppy blanky on top of his casket, along with Annah's little penguin (Jonathan recinded his gift at the last minute, but that was okay - it was complete the thought that counts and I'm so impressed with my boy for even offering his new toy to his brother), and we watched as he was covered and the flowers were placed on top. It was the hardest thing I've ever done.

My baby is gone. It's hard to move past that, and I'm not sure how to do it. Comments like "It was for the best" and "You can move on now" are utterly absurd, and I get angry every time I hear the words. I'm trying very hard to get a handle on myself, but I'm not doing a very good job.

During family prayer tonight, Annah prayed that "Mommy would be able to stop crying." It broke my heart all over, especially because I don't know if I WANT to stop crying, and I know it hurts her to see it.

Anyway, Godspeed, little man. Sweet dreams, and I love you.